Fare Thee Well
by R0wdyRavenclaw
Summary: "One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel." Liv hasn't seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything. Set 13x18 on.
1. Chapter 1

Another sunny day, another dingy motel, dirt caked so heavily onto the window that light could barely filter through. It smelled like a basement, musty and humid, and this hadn't even been the worst one this month. Life was glamorous as always.

This was set to be a quick salt and burn, and she sat there thanking her rarely seen lucky stars as she watched a mouse run squeaking across the bathroom floor. Lovely. She was getting too old for this shit, but it was time for food and a solid three hours before some good old-fashioned grave raiding tonight. The drive had been long, the interviews with vics monotonous, and she was finally back in Kentucky, time to get- her thoughts were abruptly cut short by her phone vibrating in the pocket of her worn black leather jacket.

"Yeah?" She answered, annoyed, throwing her duffel down onto the motel bed and rolling her eyes at the cloud of dust that floated off the bedspread.

"Liv?" a deep, somber voice sounded and she stopped dead in her tracks, a pit forming her stomach. Sam Winchester. This was bad.

"Sam fucking Winchester. Hi," she answered, trying to keep her voice cool. It had been almost a decade since she'd heard his voice.

"Hey, uh, look I know that this, this is, just, this..."

"What? Spit it out." Panic started to overcome her, a stuttering Winchester never led to good news.

"We need you. We have, uh, we have Gabriel, and he's, he's in rough shape."

"Gabriel..."

That pit that had formed in her stomach lurched, jumping all the way up into her throat, this was not happening.

"Yeah, turns out he's been held prisoner in hell for, God knows how long and.. and he's wrecked. We're honestly not sure if he's even still in there. But if anyone can pull him out, well, we thought it'd be you..."

"What do you mean... not sure he's still in there? What's wrong with him?"

"We uh, everything? Liv, it's bad."

Her heart was pounding. Held prisoner in hell... wrecked... not even still in there... all the horrible things she'd said, thought, they came running back into her head. Nine years of cursing his existence punched her right in the gut. She was lightheaded and dizzy, the world was spinning around her.

Nine years. It'd been nine years since she'd last seen him. After Lucifer had "killed" him, he'd come shortly after, telling her he loved her, that once everything settled down he'd be back but he needed to lay low. And she hadn't seen him since.

 _The hotel room was pitch dark, wind howling through the cracked window pulling droplets of rain into the already damp room. She sat at the table, unable to distinguish the rain from tears on her face. It had been hours, days, honestly she wasn't sure, all she knew was he was gone. The Winchesters didn't dare face her. They knew. They knew both her wrath, and her love for the angel, and she'd given them a fair taste of what would happen if she saw them again._

 _Thunder cracked, but she didn't flinch. Lightning seared across the black sky, but she didn't blink. With every flash all she could see was his body splayed on the ground, his massive wings burning across the land._

" _Liv?"_

 _Hallucinations were setting in. Great. The icing on top of the shit cake._

" _Sweetheart," she heard him say, her memory was doing him great justice, it was perfect, "I'm uh, I'm not dead. You can stop being comatose over there."_

 _The world stopped. All she could hear, feel, even see, was her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins. It took a moment, but she finally turned her head to the source of the sound, half expecting to see Lucifer, but it was him, hands held out presenting himself with that cocky little smirk on his face. But his eyes bore his fear._

" _How do I know it's you?" She croaked, voice weak and cracking._

" _Well, your birthday is September 4th, favorite food are those disgusting, weird, not chicken but you think they are no matter how many times I tell you they're not, things from that gas station in Kentucky, and is that a mirror in your pocket? Cause I can_ definitely _see myself in your pants."_

 _Her chest finally unconstricted, air rushed into her lungs like she was taking her first breath, and the wail that followed gave the storm a run for its money. She leapt from the chair, the force of her movement sending it crashing into the wall, and threw herself into his waiting arms. Sobs wracked her body as she buried her face into his neck, his scent filling her senses, arid and warm, arms gripping her tightly._

" _Sssshh, it's ok," he cooed, planting his lips firmly on her head, burying his nose in her hair, "if I didn't know better I'd swear you loved me or something."_

" _Don't get crazy now," she laughed through her tears, the sound thick and heavy._

" _I have to go," he confessed, dropping his eyes sadly._

" _What?"_

" _I need to hide out until this whole, apocalypse circus is done. Until Lucifer is gone."_

" _I'll come with you."_

" _No can do. Let's just say I don't have the, classiest of friends. Go help those two gigantors stuff my big bro back into time out, and I'll be home. I promise."_

 _She'd stared at him, her grip tightening on his collar, a poor attempt at holding him there, but he broke her heart with a simple chaste kiss._

" _I love you, you know?" were the last words she'd heard him speak before the echo of his wings ricocheted off the walls. The silence that followed was deafening._

He had never come home.

"I'm," she began, petrified of what now lay ahead of her, "I'll be there in 12."

Ten hours later she pulled up to the address Sam had given her, confused at the abandoned industrial building before her, panic creeping in slowly. The grimy brick building towering from the rocky uneven ground looked more like where she'd be hunting something, not going for a family reunion. She saw a door surrounded by a circle of bricks down a flight of metal railed stone stairs and she pulled her gun out before cautiously approaching it and knocking slowly three times.

"Olivia, hello," a deep, gravelly voice greeted as he swung the door open.

Castiel. She'd missed the awkward trench coat angel. He'd checked in on her periodically over the years, helping her here and there.

"Cas," she sighed in relief, putting her gun back into the waistband of her jeans.

His eyes were filled with sorrow as they followed her as she entered the bunker, knowing how broken she still truly was. The sight behind the door was not what she was expecting, grand and bright, metal stairs leading to a room with old computer systems lining the walls. Any other day she would be in awe, but she wasn't here for a tour.

"Hey!" Sam greeted, jogging into view as Cas led her down the staircase, a hand pressed gently between her shoulders.

"Hey... Dean here?"

"Uh, long story... he's in another dimension. An alternate universe. Trying to rescue Lucifer's son and our mom."

She stared at him blankly, "Your dead mom?"

"Like I said, long story... how are you?"

"I've been better."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Sorry about this, I know, that we didn't exactly end things too well."

"That's, yeah.. sorry."

"Oh no worries, I understand. So he's, uh, Gabriel is this way."

As Sam led her through the building, she tried to steal glances at all it had to offer. A library, lots of old useless electronics, although she thought maybe Sam had had a little fun tinkering with it all if he'd ever gotten a chance. They reached a hall lined with doors and Sam stopped at one labeled '32', his hand freezing as it grabbed the knob.

"How bad is it?" She asked, her voice ridden with fear.

"It's bad. I'm not gonna sugar coat it, it's really bad. I'm, I'm sorry."

She nodded, feeling tears pricking at her eyes, her face growing hot.

"He's, he isn't Gabriel anymore..." Sam finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

He opened the door slowly. At first appearances the room looked empty unoccupied, black Enochian symbols etched on every available inch the room. Confused, she looked back at Sam. He motioned toward the dresser in the corner, and she saw a small figure huddled into a ball beside it. It didn't even look human.

"Oh my god," when the realization hit her she ran over, the bloody matted hair, the filthy clothes, his head hung low, forehead against his bent knees. Her hands came to his forearms and he jumped, panicked, terrified, pushing himself deeper into the dark corner. His eyes were wide, petrified, sunken into his head, his face blood stained and marred, tiny holes, appearing like stitch wounds surrounded his mouth.

"Gabriel," she quietly sobbed, "it's me."

His eyes didn't change. They were completely dead. What once was filled with golden flashes of life and mischief, sat cold and dull, staring aimlessly into the floor.

"I'm, I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered, "Gabriel."

His tight, pained grimace softened slightly, and the tiniest hint of recognition fell onto his face before he buried his face back into the crook of his elbow. She sat down in front of him, lost on what to do. How could this happen to an Archangel?

"Liv," she heard Sam whisper from the door, she looked to him and he beckoned her over.

"All we know, is that Asmodeus was extracting his grace, and using it on himself. We have a little bit of it here and we're trying to give it to him, as a pick me up."

"What's an Asmodeus?"

"He's the current king of hell, youngest son of hell."

"So Azazel's little brother... how poetic. And he was, extracting.. Gabriel's grace? How?"

"Honestly we're not sure. He came like this, except his mouth had been sewn shut. With a vial of his grace that Ketch stole."

"So for nine years, he's been in Hell, being virtually fed on by some pissant demon? Am I following along correctly?"

"Yeah, well we don't know how long but, awhile it seems. He'd take what he could, let Gabriel recharge, then take it again, bled dry, basically. And this uh, this Asmodeus, when we met him he could shape shift, like Gabriel can, so, I guess it was all part of his rise to power."

She nodded. Shapeshifting. That explained Gabriel's fear when he saw her. Something told her he'd seen her, or at least her form, at some point in the last 9 years.

"What can I do Sam?" She whispered, exasperated, desperate.

"We hoped you'd know," he replied, hope fading from his voice.

She took a deep breath and walked back over to Gabriel, sitting down in front of him at a safe distance.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered just loud enough to hear, "Gabriel, I'm so sorry."

She couldn't help the tears that fell. For him, for the things she said about him, felt about him. She'd cursed him, hated him, and all this time she should have been looking for him. The guilt had settled in. She hadn't believed in him or trusted him, all she had done was written him off as a liar and let him rot in the pit to be mutilated and tortured.

His eyes never lifted, just stared into the dark corner of the room, unmoving, not even blinking.

"You remember, that one time, when we flew out to that island, out by Belize. I made you sit through the airplane ride," she started retelling, a small smile turning up the corner of her mouth, "and we were sitting in the ocean, at sunset, because we were cheesy, and..."

Yeah, he remembered. He remembered that day very well. That memory was one of the only things he still had.

 _He walked out of the tiny little beach house, drinks in hand, out towards the ocean. The sun slowly dipped closer and closer toward the vast, open blue and one tiny figure sat in the sand, the light illuminating her skin. She was practically glowing. Her hair fell in messy, salt tousled waves down her bare back and around her shoulders, and he swore that this one had been made by Dad's hands himself, perfect and beautiful, strong and soft and free._

 _When he reached her, she didn't budge. Her eyes were closed, her skin soaking in the last of the sun's warmth. He didn't think she even knew he was there. So he marveled a little more. Searing this image into his brain, because in 1000 years he wanted to recall it, to remember every single detail, down to the placement of each grain of sand scattered across her chest, every tiny freckle that danced along her nose and cheeks, her eyelashes and the way they brushed her brow. Every imperfection was important. He knelt down quietly, gently laying his lips to the top of her shoulder in a light kiss, tasting the ocean salt on her skin._

" _I love you, you know," He whispered into her hair before parting the falling veil with his nose, finding the side of her neck with his mouth._

" _I know," she responded, her eyes remaining closed but her smiling growing._

" _Do you?"_

 _She reached behind her, grabbing his hand and bringing his arm around her waist, locking her fingers with his against her stomach as she leaned her body back into his chest, her head resting back across his shoulder._

" _Yes," she answered, turning her head and gently kissing his jaw._

 _Her certainty, faith, and trust in him shocked him. She had no hesitation in answering him. The swelling in his chest was consuming him. There was no explanation for any of this, the dejected little brother, the runaway, dads little last ditch, got-nothing-left creation had finally found peace. In the arms of a human, this human, he'd finally found a home._

" _I kinda wanna stay here forever," she giggled, nose scrunching up before rolling herself forward and standing up, pulling him up with her. "Come on," she smiled, mischief in her eyes._

 _He obeyed, letting her lead him to the waters edge, the waves lapping at their toes. She peered up at him, he looked so serious, troubled almost._

" _What's wrong?" She asked, keeping his hand in hers while she turned to face him, other hand coming up to rest on his cheek._

 _She studied his face, perfect, sharp and angled, his amber eyes looking at her with an adoration she swore was beyond a human's capability._

" _I kinda want to stay here forever too, except my forever, actually IS forever," he confessed, leaning into her hand. If there was ever a time to be weak, this seemed like it._

 _He'd always kept a brave face on around her, not because she expected it, but because his burdens were his own to bear. The burden of one day being left behind, the burden of knowing she was going to die one day. And his life, his existence, whatever it was, would be over, but he'd still be here._

 _She leaned up and pressed a simple, sincere kiss on his lips, "I'll love you even when I'm in, wherever I'm headed," she assured, pushing that one swoop of hair away from his eyes, "Heaven isn't too far."_

 _No, it wasn't. It was right here._

"Gabe?" He heard her whisper again, her voice still the sweetest sound that would ever exist, pulling him from his oh so familiar dream world, eyes finally moving to look at her.

This was no ruse, no trick. She was right in front of him, saying his name, was the nightmare was finally over? Slowly his hand pulled away from his body, reaching for her, stretching to the one thing that could pull him free.

She smiled as she gently laced her fingers with his, noticing the absence of his warmth she'd remembered on cold, lonely nights. Gently she pulled him from the floor, to the bed. His body reforming into a small knot, eyes hollow but with the tiniest glimmer of light shining through.

"Hey," Sam Winchester greeted softly as he came into the room, Castiel on his heels, "well at least he's not in the corner anymore."

"Hasn't said a word," she replied, combing her fingers over the blood matted curls behind his ears.

That little motion had always been his greatest weakness. She didn't know the power it had over him. Sure, she probably had gathered he enjoyed it, but it was more than that. It was pure affection, something Gabriel had never quite been acquainted with… until her. He remembered the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body fit perfectly into his arms, and those magical little fingers running through his hair. It made him weak and strong at the same time.

Unable to understand the conversation of the three people surrounding him, the world was hazy and sounds were muffled, he concentrated on the gentle scratches against his scalp and the warmth radiating off of the woman sitting at his side.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, as Castiel approached, pushing the sleeves of his coat up his wrists and laying his hands on the archangels head, a fierce protectiveness rising in her chest.

"I must reiterate, it's not possible for an angel to heal an archangel. I'm just trying to jolt his mind into thinking straight. Even then, Liv, Sam... Gabriel... it's, it's possible that he's lost."

She shook her head, no he'd come back. He had to. She needed him. She always had and she always would.

"Gabriel, please," she begged, leaning her forehead against his temple, uncaring of the bloody, filthy mess he was.

Sam watched the scene unfold before him. He thought for a moment that privacy was best, but he needed to be there if Gabriel broke back through.

"Gabriel," she cried, unable to keep her resolve, to keep her strength up.

Seeing him like this broke something deep inside of her. Bloody, battered, still and cold as stone he sat, and she clung to him, pushing every ounce of everything she had to bringing him back.

"I know, I know that it's hard. I know that you're scared. I'm not going to hurt you, Sam isn't going to hurt you. But you're scaring me. I've lived, all these years, thinking you were gone, but here you are, and I, I need you. I've always needed you, I always will. I know you think you're worthless, and broken, and weak, but you're not. You are everything. I'm living and breathing right now because you existed. I need you, Gabriel. I love you. Even after all these years, I love you still. Please don't, don't leave me like this. Let me help you. Just please, come back to me, please Gabe."

Her tears were falling and sobs wracked her body. Sam wanted to go to her, but she'd wrapped herself tightly around the angel, and he finally saw a glimmer of the depth of what they had. He watched as she cried into his cheek, forehead pressed firmly to his temple still, her tears leaving streaks in the blood dried on his face. She cradled his head gently with a hand wrapped around to his other cheek, her other arm between them, gripping his lifeless hand.

They had loved each other, really loved. And they still did.

The scene before him jolted memories of the times he'd lost Dean, and Jess, how helpless and lost he'd been. He'd never seen her like this. Olivia had always been a pillar of strength. Her reputation in the hunters' world rivaled that of Sam and his brother; she'd taken out entire nests of vampires, packs of werewolves, single handedly. She was cunning and ruthless, but every hero had their kryptonite.

"Liv, can I, speak with you outside," Cas asked softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, kissing Gabriel's cheek before standing, keeping her eyes locked on him until she'd turned the corner.

"Are you all right?" Castiel inquired, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I'm fine," she answered, coldly.

"I know you're not fine."

"Then why are you bothering to even ask?"

Castiel hung his head and she felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "for everything. I, I told Sam not to call you.."

"NOT to call me?" She interjected, her voice raising in anger, "not to call me. Why the fuck would you think to not call me?!"

"This is, a lot-"

"He's DYING Cas! That's what this is!"

"I know."

"So fuck you for even considering not calling me here."

"Liv..."

"What?!"

"I'm trying. You aren't the only one who loves him."

Sam stood alone in the room, Gabriel still huddled into a ball on the bed. The angel had always been small, but somehow he'd made himself even smaller. The day had taken a major emotional toll on the younger Winchester. Dean leaving (with Ketch of all people) to apocalypse world, Gabriel, Liv, and no matter how many times he turned the situation over in his head, he couldn't find a single solution to one problem. He was helpless. It was back to the drawing board.

"Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations. I've been there. You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I-I thought I got out. But then... then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. Jack, your nephew, needs you. Liv needs you. The world needs you. We need you. Gabriel, I need you. So, please, help us."

Again, he got no response. This was hopeless. He needed a new plan, and that wasn't going to come easy.

"Hey," Liv greeted, standing beside the much taller hunter, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "so, what's the plan? I'm sure you needed him for something and that clearly isn't panning out."

He heard the accusatory tone to her voice, "uh, I don't know. Wait for Dean to get back, see what he's been able to do over in Apocalypse World."

"Yeah, I guess I'm gonna need an update on all that."

"You're, you're gonna help?"

"Well I'm not leaving him. And he's with you. And I'm betting that you don't let me take him, so… logical choice."

"This is the safest place for him."

"Yeah. Quite the bomb shelter you have here."

"Oh, you have no idea."

She felt the corner of her lips twitch into a small smile. She'd always liked Sam. Dean, on the other hand, they were far too alike, fire fighting fire.

"Hungry? I'll go and grab you some food. We have a kitchen," he added with a smile and a bragging tone.

"A kitchen? Fuck, what's that? You know how to use it?" She asked, her smile growing bigger, and for the first time in awhile, it felt genuine.

"Well enough, yeah. I make a mean egg white omelet."

"That's disgusting."

Sam laughed, "Well, I'll go get you a burger then."

She gave him an approving nod as he turned towards the door, stopping and wrapping an arm lazily around her.

"We're gonna figure this out. All of it. Gabriel too," he promised, "we'll get him back."

"Thanks Sam," she murmured, grabbing his forearm, her eyes staying locked on the figure in front of her.

Once Sam had left, she walked back over to the bed, sitting back beside the angel, shoulder gently leaning against his.

"Come on Gabe, you're stronger than this. You're more fucking stubborn than this, that's for sure," she reasoned to no one, "you promised..."

 _You promised you'd come back._

"I know."

Every nerve in her body whirred to life, her heart jumped into overdrive at the sound of that voice. It was soft and hoarse. In that moment, she finally understood the phrase, 'music to my ears', because there was nothing in this world, or any other, that she would have wanted to hear more.

"Gabriel?" She turned slowly, whispering his name as her eyes locked with his, his gaze soft as he finally truly saw her.

"Hi sweetheart."

Tears fell onto her cheeks as his grace surged through him, his eyes blazing blue.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam!" Liv yelled, her eyes staying locked on the golden amber eyes beside her.

Whatever deep, dark vault of her psyche she'd locked Gabriel away in over the years burst open. It coursed through her, spreading like wildfire as it burned through the walls and barricades blocking him away. Every emotion he'd ever awakened in her rekindled, each piece of her he'd broken dragging back into place. A small, angry part of her wanted to reject how easily her heart was welcoming him again. He'd broken it far beyond repair and here it was offering itself to him again as if it wasn't being held together by string, bits crumbling at the slightest memory of him.

"Gabriel." She sputtered again, craving that voice she'd all but forgotten.

"How do I know it's really you?" He asked meekly, water welling in his lower lids.

He knew it was her. It had to be. She looked different. Harder. Colder. Tiny lines has formed around her eyes and he noticed a few gray hairs around her temples. She'd be 35 now if he'd kept track of time properly.

Asmodeus had never been able to capture her quite right. He may have had the power, but he didn't have the skill. It's all in the nuances. Like when her lips twitched to the side when she was holding back tears, or how her eyes flicked down whenever she was embarrassed (and everything embarrassed her). But his favorite was the way she relaxed when she actually truly felt safe. The woman never relaxed. She was constantly on edge, ready to whirl and shove the nearest thing she could find through someone, or something's, chest. He'd been on the receiving end a few times, she had a skill. But those snippets of peace where she let that guard down, when her shoulders dropped from their contracted position by her neck and her face softened, that was something Asmodeus could never replicate.

"Are you from Tennessee?" She whispered, lips tugging into a smirk, "cause you're the only ten I see."

His eyes snapped shut and he felt his tension and fears slowly begin to melt away. Maybe he actually was home. Maybe this was finally over…

"Hey! What's up?" Sam interrupted, running into the room, his eyes snapping over to the now responsive angel.

"Go get his grace," Liv ordered, not even turning her attention to the towering figure in the doorway, "we're gonna help you, ok?"

He noticed the restraint in her voice, how she tiptoed with her tone, careful to not give too much of herself away.

Sam returned moments later with Castiel and Gabriel could hear his grace pulsing as soon as it entered the room. With cautious eyes, Liv watched as Sam held the glass vial up to him, the glimmering blue fog drifting back to its rightful home.

"Is it helping?" Castiel inquired, a tinge of hope evident in his voice.

"I... I don't know." Gabriel answered, his eyes averting to Liv, searching for reassurance.

"Sam, where's the bathroom? And some rags. So we can... try and clean him up a bit." Liv inquired, her voice cracking.

"Down the hall to the right is a washroom, there should be some towels in there." Sam responded as Gabriel's eyes shot over to him.

Panic tightened over the angels chest as she exited the room. The calm that had washed over him was dissipating as he was left with Sam and Castiel. This was unfamiliar, it wasn't home, it wasn't safe here. He had to get out, he had to run. His grace was flowing through him, attempting and failing to fill all the broken cracks and holes within him. It wasn't enough. He was shattered. Nothing short of a miracle was going to repair him now, and miracles walked out when dad did.

"Hello?" Sam blurted out, answering his phone, pulling Gabriel from his thoughts.

"Samuel." A thick southern accent drawled.

Gabriel's heart stopped. He could feel the blood draining from his face as his body went cold and rigid. His eyes shot to Sam, returned to their petrified state from before. He knew it, he wasn't safe. He never would be ever again. And now she was involved.

"I hope you're having a pleasant day. It's come to my attention you boys have something that belongs to me, and I'd like it back." Asmodeus continued, and Gabriel could feel the demon's needle piercing his neck, over and over and over.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam responded, voice hard.

"Oh, I believe you do. And I'm-a give you one chance to return him to me. No harm, no foul."

"I'm hanging up."

"Do not hang up on me. Gabriel is of no use to you in his current condition. Should you choose to resist me, I will have no choice but to take him by force. I will reduce you and that sad little bunker of yours to ashes. You got 10 minutes to decide. Now you can hang up."

The silence weighed down on everyone in the room. Gabriel's breath came out in shaky, barely audible whimpers. He was going back. He was going back to hell.

Liv's hands shook as she pulled three clean towels from the industrial shelf in the massive room. Multiple shower stalls lined the walls, washing in a whole new group of old memories. Gentle fingertips raking against her scalp, wandering hands exploring every inch of her, she could practically feel him behind her, his nose gently grazing against her neck as lips swept across her damp skin, his breath hitting her, soft and warm , as he whispered his devotion. Why didn't she look for him all these years? He loved her. Why did she _leave_ him to-

Quickly, she snapped herself from her dreamland to find her hand gripped tightly around the metal of the towel rack, knuckles white and jagged, bitten fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. 'Fuck' she cursed in her head, all bets were off. Nine years of repression were finally surging forward, quickly churning to guilt in her gut, forcing her to keel over the sink and heave the bile from her empty stomach into the white basin.

She had to fix this. She had to make it right.

"Liv, we have a problem." Sam's voice was firm and afraid as he stopped in the doorway, eyes wide with fear as she looked at his reflection in the mirror.

She whipped around quickly, "What?"

"Asmodeus is coming."

When Sam said those words she felt no fear. She knew she should have, but it almost felt like relief. Murderous thoughts flashed behind her eyes. She knew what she wanted to do, what she had to do.

"I need that knife," she seethed, glaring through her brows. Sam nodded as she went to meet him, ready for a fight.

Gabriel sat on the bed, knees clutched tightly to his body, rocking back and forth. Everything hurt. His feet were freezing, cold was not something he'd ever had to experience. The empty room was too reminiscent of where he knew he'd soon be returning to. This was by far the cruelest trick that Asmodeus had played on him. Twenty four hours of freedom, letting any form of hope return to him, seeing her, the real her. He wanted to break down and sob, he wanted to run, he wanted to kiss her one last time, but above all, he wanted to die. There was no way he could survive any more of this, but he had no choice. Only one thing could kill him, and there was no one left capable of ending his existence. He was forever destined to live in this nightmare. He supposed he deserved it. Abandoning heaven, his brothers, killing all those people through the years. Then there was the sex, and the drugs, alcohol and gambling, he'd lived a life of debauchery and it was finally catching up to him. He'd lived his life for pleasure and he'd now patiently beg for death for the rest of his days.

When Liv ran into the room, she noticed his return to his catatonic state as Castiel stood helplessly beside him. Fury was running through her veins as she patiently waited on the Prince of Hell who was slated to arrive at any second. He wasn't taking him. Not without killing her first.

"Hey," she cooed, softening herself as she kneeled in front of the bed and placed a hand on his. "You aren't going anywhere, understand? You aren't going back there."

Were her promises empty? Probably, she thought. Was she walking into her own death? Maybe, but if she died for him, well that was the only way she wanted to go out anyway, the only way that seemed worth a damn.

His hands shot to his head, he couldn't listen to this, this wasn't happening. She was going to die. Not only was he going back to hell, but he was going to have to watch Asmodeus kill her over and over again…

"All right, we did what we could to help the bunker's warding, but who knows if it's enough. How's he?" Sam asked, running back into the room.

"I don't know." Castiel responded, watching the pair with a soft expression.

"He can't go back, Sam," Liv muttered, releasing Gabriel's hand and standing tall next to the hunter.

Suddenly, the room went dark. The red emergency lights were the only thing left illuminating the building, casting an eerie and violent glow.

"He's not going back," Sam assured firmly, handing over Ruby's knife to her and holding his angel blade in his other hand.

The trio ran out into the hall, Liv passing Gabriel a sad glance as she paused in the doorway. This was it,this was the turning point. They would either win, or lose everything. Liv led the way, keeping her boots silent on the floors of the bunker, knife held ready in front of her. Everything was silent, too silent.

When they reached the map room, their attention was grabbed by the warding sigils illuminated on the walls.

"They're here," Liv whispered, all of her muscles tensing into position, ready to attack.

Right on cue, four demons attacked. Two went to Sam, one to Castiel, and the last to Liv.

"Oh, the boss is gonna be real happy see you," the demon sneered, as he stopped in front of her with a sinister smiling baring his teeth.

"I get that a lot," She replied smugly. "Not too happy when I leave though I've found, think it's because of my sour disposition? Or is it more, because I just leave them dead?"

She shrugged sarcastically, pouting her lips. The demon snarled and lunged, quickly greeted by a knee in the stomach.

"You know, people underestimate me," she continued as the toe of her boot collided with his jaw, "they don't _realize_ that the will to live goes hand in hand with a healthy fear of death, both of which I lack. It's really freeing, you know?"

Blood sprayed from the demons mouth as he spit a tooth out, Liv looking on with a satisfied grin. "Angel whore," he growled angrily.

"Name calling? Really? I mean, really? I just kicked your face in and you want to use _words_. Can you at least make this remotely entertaining?"

The demon lunged, wrapping an arm around her middle, tackling her to the floor, and pushing them back into the hallway. Her head bounced off the hard cement floor, stunning her momentarily. White dots flashed through her vision as the burning from the back of her head wrapped around the rest of her skull like a vice. This was more like it. She wrestled to regain control, twisting and writhing, sneaking her leg through the demon straddling her as she dodged his pummeling fists. Sometimes it paid to be small. Her leg finally slipped through and she quickly threw it up and around the demon's neck, using the weight of her entire lower body to throw him onto the floor, plunging the knife into his chest as he landed.

"See, I told you," she panted as his true face flashed behind his vessel's, "I leave 'em dead."

Her eyes darted into the map room, searching for the two men that had gone in with spotted them off to the side, both also victorious against their assailants and then suddenly thrown against the wall like rag dolls by an invisible force.

"You warding wasn't designed for the likes of me, Samuel. I've come to claim what's mine." She heard a thick Southern accent taunt as she pushed herself against the wall, trying her hardest to camouflage herself.

A man came into view, dressed in an all-white suit. Asmodeus. Cautiously, her eyes shot to the small trembling figure being dragged into view by two towering men. Gabriel. His eyes were wide as they caught sight of his captor, his body trying to force itself back into a huddled ball against the arms pulling him along up the stairs. Her heart began to pound as her face grew hot. It took every ounce of self control to not run and attack, but she had one shot and it needed to be perfectly calculated.

"Oh I missed you boy, Im'a have to punish you rather severely I'm afraid. Although, I think this little field trip may have served as a better torment than even I coulda thought up." Asmodeus heckled, smiling with one side of his bearded face, "I know she's around here somewhere. And as for you two.."

With a wave of his hand Sam and Castiel immediately screamed, writhing in pain. It was now or never. Rage burned through her chest as she ran towards the distracted prince in the center of the room. It was too easy, the knife slid into his kidney, the red seeping through his white jacket as he keeled over with a scream.

"No!" Gabriel screamed, his body still paralyzed with fear, earning a smile from the rising monarch on the floor below.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't _the_ Olivia. I know a lot about you my dear," Asmodeus purred, turning to face her. "You should know better than thinkin' that old rusted little dagger can kill the likes of me. I got too much of your angel runnin' through me now."

"Fuck you," She spat, fear coursing through her as the realization of her failure dawned on her.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, where are your manners little girl? You're talkin' to a king you know!"

"I am going to rip you limb from limb and scatter you across the fucking universe."

If she was going out, she was going out swinging. She couldn't bear to look up at Gabriel, the fear and undoubted disappointment and guilt that would be etched into his already blood stricken face, no. If she was dying, she was remembering him from better times. She'd remember those golden eyes so alight with life they gave the stars a run for their money, his mischievous little chuckle and the way he'd always give her hand an extra squeeze before saying goodbye. He'd loved her, that was all she'd ever needed.

"Oh my oh my, you are just as feisty as he makes you out to be. I like that. I must say, I think some of the angel's… fondness of you must be all wrapped up in his grace." He began advancing towards her, slowly, menacingly, "I think I got a little of bit of it in me now too."

She froze. Ice rain through her veins as the demons cold, hard eyes fell predatorily onto her, like he owned her. Her gaze was locked as he stalked towards her, head cocked to the side, smiling.

"What should we do with you?" He inquired, running his hands up and down her arms, "Maybe, I'll keep you as my own little pet, make him watch as I take you as my own, hmm? While you beg and plead for the comfort of your precious little halo. Wouldn't that be fun, boy? To look into these eyes you love so much as she prays for death!"

Asmodeus grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her to face the three men on the landing of the metal stairwell. Gabriel felt a surge of power wash through him as she finally turned her eyes up to look at him. She was petrified, she looked almost childlike. Tears were streaming down her face as the tendons in her neck strained against the tension from the hold on her head. This wouldn't be his fate. It wouldn't be her fate. He mustered every atom of grace he had, standing tall as his eyes glowed blue, tossing the two demons holding him down either with ease.

"Gabriel! What are you doin' son? You know too well what I can do to you! What I can do to her! I broke you!" Asmodeus screamed, releasing Liv, ready to fight the rekindled archangel, "You're too weak!"

With another push of all he had, Gabriel's eyes turned to white, his grace washing through him, healing his wounds, clearing the evidence of his time in hell from his face, wings stretching free for the first time in a thousand years. His eyes quickly fell to Liv, who had crumpled onto the floor, silently instructing her to move, to run. She understood, scrambling to the wall between Sam and Cas, her eyes staying locked on Gabriel, his freshly revived appearance, and the silhouette of his wings spanning the entire wall.

"Not anymore. Oh, by the way, I always hated that dumbass suit," Gabriel snapped, raising his hand in front of him.

He could feel his grace draining as pushed it through his fingertips, lighting fire to the leader of Hell. He grinned as the demon's screams echoed against the walls, willing the same pain Asmodeus had brought on to him for a thousand years into the flames, hoping he felt every inch of his skin burning off his bones before he was granted the relief of death. As his face finally engulfed into the flames, Gabriel felt a wave of relief. It was over. At least this part. He'd worry about the rest later.

As the smoke cleared, the pained cries finally ceasing and the scent of sulfur lying thickly in the air, Liv slowly started to return to her senses. They'd won. Gabriel stood tall in front of the bunker's entrance. The lights had powered back on and she could really see him now; all evidence of his time in hell was gone, minus his ratty clothing. Sam and Castiel were still on either side of her, their eyes also glued to the rejuvenated archangel. In that moment, she realized everything she'd come to know was going to change. The blinders were being removed; Gabriel was here. The question was, what would he want?

Sam was the first to speak, his voice high with shock and relief, "Gabriel?"

"Sam," Gabriel greeted, strong and sure. "Castiel."

When his eyes fell to her, the air left his lungs in an alleviated whoosh. From outward appearances, she looked fine, but his worry got the best of him, and he did one thing he always swore he wouldn't. His track record hadn't been so great in the kept promises department, so one more faux-pas certainly wasn't going to worsen the circumstances. He dipped briefly into her mind, feeling her emotions, reading her thoughts. Doubt, fear, relief and love all mingled in a pool of uncertainty and sadness, the image of him bloody and beaten still seared into the front of her brain. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenaline still pumping through her veins, yet there was a gentleness to it all.

Swaying as she rose, she stood first as he started descending down the stairs. It was taking too long and going too fast at the same time. For the first time in ten years, the butterflies in her stomach woke as his bare foot landed on the floor. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as his eyes came into view. The perfect blend of gold and amber met her gaze. He was still just as beautiful as the last time she'd seen him, with his honey hair, sharp, angled nose and prominent upper lip, his jaw now covered by the lightest dusting of stubble. He'd always been perfect, but something about him now made her heart swell just a little bit more.

He stopped a few inches away from her, keeping a safe distance, and it killed him to do so. He wanted to gather her in his arms, feel her warmth and the security she had always given him. Asmodeus had taunted him with, and in, her form for so long, and to see her now, he remembered the one feature of hers that he never could replicate, although he'd tried. It broke whatever pieces of him were left. Her eyes, soft and reverent, looking at him like he was all she'd ever need, all she ever wanted, but there had always been a glint of fear dancing behind it all. A fear of what, he'd never quite been able to pinpoint until now, as that glint had morphed into a solar surge. He'd assumed it was because of his past, or what he was, or the things she'd seen him do, but now he realized it was a fear of losing him.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel whispered, bowing his head. "I'm sorry for everything."

Her strength finally faltered and a choked sob broke free from her throat, startling the other two men in the room. They'd never seen anything but stoic from her. Even after his death all those years ago, she'd held herself together until she was out of sight, out of earshot. Now, there was no control. She reached forward, grabbing Gabriel's forearms as her sorrow wretched through her entire body.

"Hey, hey, it's ok," Gabriel cooed, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her neck.

"We'll...give you two a minute," Sam mumbled, grabbing Cas' arm and pulling him toward the kitchen, his heart breaking for the pair.

Liv's arms hung loosely by her sides, unable to reach up and wrap around the waist of the man holding her close. She was wailing, nine years of pent up emotion had finally spilled over and there was no stopping it now. Her face was buried in the soft skin of his neck and, despite how filthy his clothes were, it was still that same warm and arid smell she'd been haunted by clouding her senses. Gabriel stayed silent, letting her release whatever it was she needed to get out within the safety of his embrace. Her tears had soaked into his shirt, making the thin, gauzy fabric he was desperate to get off stick to his skin, but for the moment he didn't care. Gently, he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, feeling the way her hair felt against his skin again and silently begging for more.

Finally, she calmed enough to become more aware of her surroundings. She reached her arms up and linked them under his, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, pulling her body impossibly closer to him. When her sobs turned to ragged gasps and whimpers, he pulled away just enough to look down into her red and swollen brown eyes.

"Better?" He asked softly with a lopsided smirk, using his thumb to wipe he residual wetness off her puffy cheeks.

"Not really," She responded, leaning her head into his hand.

"Not yet."

She took a deep, clarifying breath and pulled out of Gabriel's arms. It was time to hit the reset button and get back to work. There was only so much time for petty emotions, and this had already gone on too long. It was time to assess the damages to him and work them out, to figure out where all of this was going to fall.

"Hey, uh, we need to talk Gabriel." Sam entered, almost right on cue, Castiel on his heels.

Gabriel and Liv, unknowingly to them, moved like a unit. Gabriel sat on the slightly elevated decorative edge to the staircase, backed by the massive stone pillar beside the entrance to the library, where she had taken the stair right beside him, her shoulder gently leaning on his calf. It was almost gravitational, and it had taken them all of twenty minutes to get back here. For years, Dean had called foul on the whole arrangement, but seeing them now, Sam didn't think he'd ever seen anything more real. Bronte had a point, whatever souls were made of, theirs were the same.

Sam started at the beginning, explaining to both of them the situation at hand with Jack, Michael, and the Apocalypse alternate world, watching their faces mirror the others expression without even looking at one another.

"Whoa, too much information. Okay, slow down, I'm not.. processing," Gabriel stammered, his face contorting in confusion.

"This, this is too much. I hunt, monsters, I don't meddle in time and alternate universes. What the hell have you been doing? Can you not set the world into a crash course for destruction every two years? Jesus," Liv scoffed as Gabriel stood. She followed suit, subconsciously grabbing his hand to help pull herself up.

"Don't bring him into this, still bitter about how all that went down. You know i _I'm/i_ the one that orchestrated that whole, resurrection. I thought it'd be _funny_ -"

Liv held her hand out, stopping him, knowing the snowball effect that was about to occur.

"And there's more, Michael wants to come to this Earth and destroy it, and we may need your help to fight him," Castiel added, rolling his eyes at his brother's favorite story.

"What?" Gabriel responded, all signs of joking dropped from his face.

"Yeah. Welcome to the team," Sam quipped with a haphazard smile, trying to make light of the situation.

"Uh, yeah, not so much. I mean, thank you for the rescue and for the redemption arc. But uh, I'm not really a team guy so, I'm gonna bounce, okay?"

As Sam and Castiel's faces fell in shock and horror, Liv's twisted into regret. They should have known better.

"Um, but you know, it's been um, what's the opposite of fun? That," Gabriel finished as he brushed past Sam towards the door.

"No, Gabriel, don't, you- you can't just walk away. If Michael comes here he will end this world!" Sam tacked on, desperation heavy in his tone.

Gabriel's eyes shot to Liv, who had remained standing on the stairs to the library, "And the last time the world was ending, I put my money on you. I think you can pull it off again."

Gabriel searched Liv's face for any hint of what she was feeling, but her expression stayed neutral. She was in no place to force him to do anything, she knew that, and she didn't want to. She was peeved that Sam had thought this a good time to bring this up, to recruit him onto another life threatening mission, but at the same time she sympathized with him. His entire family was off in some alternate dimension, and all he wanted was their safety. No doubt she knew she would have done the same for the angel now staring at her, waiting for her to make a play.

"I'm not, I'm not picking sides," She forfeited, drawing burning looks from all three men in the room.

"Of course you are. You're picking his," Sam accused, taking a step towards her, his figure towering, face hard.

"Watch it, Sasquatch," Gabriel warned, his nostrils flaring.

"No. You cannot turn your back on your father's creation," Castiel implored, turning the attention back to the issue.

"Castiel, my father turned his back on his creation. Guess it just runs in the family," Gabriel replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"No. Gabriel. Please," Sam pleaded, one last time.

But before anyone could respond, he was gone. Liv sighed and rolled her eyes. _Of_ _course_. Sam and Castiel's attention turned directly to her, eyes accusing and disappointed. This was going to make for an extremely pleasant exit.

"Don't look at me like that," She snapped. "I can't control him."

"No. But if anyone can sway him, it's you. And you just STOOD THERE!" Sam shouted, raising his hands in defeat.

"He needs a MINUTE. He got out of hell _yesterday_."

"Stop defending him. I don't want to hear it. He was our _only shot._ "

Anger bubbled in her chest; the Winchester way, everyone was a tool or a weapon. It was time to take her leave. Whatever small piece of her that had considered sticking around to help them was shrinking back into the recesses of her conscience, realizing that maybe they deserved what they got. They'd earned their disaster. She had bigger fish to fry and an archangel's ass to kick for leaving her to clean up his mess.


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel stumbled forward as he landed. His wings were obviously a bit cramped, and running on a tank of fumes certainly wasn't helping (let alone his lungs' inability to take in oxygen). Pain was radiating from his sternum as his chest heaved, his throat felt as if it was swelling shut, and his body was still reeling from the 'fight or flight' decision it had just made. He could hear Sam's voice repeating _welcome to the team_ over and over and over again, like a drum battering against his skull. There would be no teams, no fighting, no saving the world, no Michael. _Definitely_ no Michael. _Welcome to the team_. Then her face, her mask of indifference; of all the millions of times he'd imagined seeing her again, that hadn't been one of the scenarios. As the image of her tired and defeated face passed before his eyes, he felt that invisible grip around his chest tighten even further, causing him to audibly wheeze and gasp. Everything burned and tensed as he drew air in through his gaping mouth. That was when he realized, he had no idea where he was.

Fear ran through him and he whimpered through his closed off lungs, eyes wide as he whipped his head from side to side. There was no one. He was in the middle of the road, on his hands and knees, surrounded by darkness. The pavement was rough against his hands and feet, cold and far too similar to the cement of his cell. He could practically feel the heat of hell on the back of his neck, Asmodeus' footsteps echoing in his ears.

"Liv?" he whimpered, calling out to who he knew wasn't there, "Please.."

Tears flooded his eyes as he cried out, longing for a hand to pull him up, for arms around his neck and fingers in his hair. He'd forgotten everything about her. If only he could remember the smell of her messy brown waves, or the sound of her voice as she sang into the wind, maybe he'd be better. But he didn't. He'd been able to keep a fragment of one precious memory alive, and he brought himself back there. He reminisced to the shores of Belize, to those coveted five minutes he'd refused to be robbed of through all these years. And as he recalled the warm ocean waves licking against his toes, he dragged one leg forward, slowly crawling his way back to her.

The road stretched out infinitely in front of her, illuminated only by the headlights of her dad's 1977 Charger. Her anger was still alight, making her foot a little heavier than it should have been as the car topped out at 105, racing into the black abyss. As she had suspected, Sam hadn't made leaving the bunker a pleasant experience. Guilt tripping her into finding Gabriel and bringing him back, it wasn't going to happen. One, she'd never be able to find him, not if he didn't want to be found. And two, just, no. At this point guilt was unavoidable, so the option that fit best into her own conscience was the one that was winning. And right now, that was keeping Gabriel away from the Winchester duo. But none of that even mattered, because Gabriel was in the wind, literally.

Her brain wouldn't calm down, the events of the last twenty four hours racing through her mind, unable to focus on one coherent thought. The world was ending and the love of her life was back after nine years, then gone again even faster than he'd come. Oh yeah, not to mention the reigning king of hell had been roasted five feet away from her and there were alternate universes. As her adrenaline rush faded, all she wanted was him, and at the same time, she wouldn't know how to react if he were there. He'd run off, yet again. Never before in her life had she so desperately wanted to shut herself away and never come out.

"You shouldn't drive so fast," a familiar voice scolded from the backseat, causing her to scream and veer into the, thankfully empty, left lane.

"Fuck! What the _FUCK_ dude?!" she huffed, throwing her eyes over her shoulder to see Gabriel guzzling 200 year old whiskey straight from the bottle.

Just as quickly as she'd righted the car, she jerked the wheel clockwise, screeching the old coupe onto the gravel beside an empty field. Knuckles white as she gripped the wheel with both hands, she clenched her teeth, refusing to turn her head and look at him. Through her rear view mirror she could see he was sitting silently with his back against the door of the car, legs stretched out along the seat in front of him, nursing his whiskey bottle. He'd changed his clothes, now in a navy blue button down and jeans. He said nothing.

"What're you doing here?" she finally asked, softly.

"Do you not want me here?" he responded, his voice heavy yet emotionless.

"I honestly don't know."

Her words stung as she said them; she wished she could reach out and grab them as they left her lips, shove them back down her throat and choke on them. She chided herself for her quick temper and pettiness, forcing herself to turn and look at him. He'd turned his eyes towards her, red and inflamed. Obviously the angel had been crying before he'd popped into her backseat, and that heaviness that had slowly been filling her multiplied exponentially. His hair was ruffled, falling messily into his face instead of his typical neatly slicked back look. His mouth was down-turned and defeated. He looked meek and weary; he looked desperate.

"Can you... can you not leave, please," she pleaded, locking her eyes with his. "I'm going to stop at the first place I see."

His face remained unchanged; his only response was taking another long, gulping swig from his bottle.

"Promise?" she sighed, not ready to spend what little emotional energy she had left on nothing.

"Yeah, yeah, I promise," he answered after two more mouthfuls, "...but I'm gonna need a refill."

The knot in his chest had only grown. The tightening was returning, his throat burning once again. Not even this whiskey was helping the pain that radiated from his heart. What if she never forgave him? Honestly, he wasn't sure which version of hell would be worse: the real one, or the one where he walks the same world as her, but she doesn't want to share it with him.

They drove along in silence, even the radio was emitting nothing more than a faint static white noise, the rumble of the engine trapping them each in their own thoughts. Empathy had never been her strong suit. She was cold and jaded, too many years of seeing the true evil this world had to offer and the destruction it caused. She didn't even know where to start in helping Gabriel, but she knew she had to. No, she _wanted_ to. This wasn't a matter of duty or responsibility, this was the man she loved, and he needed her. He had chosen her, and her alone, and her him. There were no facades or acts, this was real, raw emotion. This had consequences, but that didn't make it any easier.

Finally, she pulled into the lot of an inn two and half hours outside of Lebanon, Kansas. It was quaint, settled back into a small patch of woods, and the lot was empty. As she pulled up to the office, she turned once again to look at Gabriel, his eyes distantly staring off out the rear window, fingers tapping anxiously against his now empty bottle. She didn't want to leave him alone, her brain screaming at her to not let him out of her sight for one second.

"Come on," she urged, the door creaking as she pushed it open, the cool night air refreshing her as it hit her face.

"What?" Gabriel snorted, watching her as she walked around to the passenger side and kicking the seat forward to let him out of the back seat.

As she extended her hand out, he felt that ever present knot loosen. Perhaps she hadn't given up on him yet after all. When her fingers laced through his and guided him out of her car and into the night air, it was the most normal he'd felt in a very long time, but contentment was still a long ways away. He was so unsure of everything, but he knew he loved her. That was certain.

The way he looked at her was killing her, eyebrows furrowed, eyes still swollen, shoulders slumped forward, the larger than life angel seemed smaller now, more reserved, surrendered. The way he seemingly tried to hide in plain sight, keeping his eyes down, arms in tight, a stark opposite to the space-commanding, attention-grabbing presence he'd always been. She didn't know what to do. How does one broken person fix another?

"Let's get a room," she whispered, tugging his hand towards the doors to the office.

There was nothing left in him to resist. He followed along, gripping her fingers tightly. As she checked in, he didn't hear a thing, but she kept her fingers wound with his, working around her tasks with one hand. He knew he needed to shake this off, to right himself, but at the moment he was too exhausted, too desperate for comfort. The last time he could remember being this spent was after helping Dad shove the Darkness into her cell. But that was a different tired, this was the kind of tired that even if he laid down to rest, he wouldn't be able to. There was too much hanging in the balance, too much he needed to figure out.

"What's wrong with him? Looks like he's been through hell," the check-in clerk commented as Liv grabbed the small gold key from him.

"Ha," she scoffed, he had no idea. "Yeah, rough past few days. Thanks."

She sighed in relief when they reached room number seven. The farthest spot from the road per, her request. It was nicer than most she'd been in recently, peaceful and cozy looking. It almost resembled a room you'd find in a small cottage. White and clean, she imagined it was probably very bright in there when the sun was up. There were no weird smells or vermin running around, this was practically five star.

Gabriel had pulled away as soon as the door closed and immediately sat on the bed, throwing his head into his hands. She was at the end of her rope, it was time to admit that she had no idea what she was doing. She had no clue how to help him. Every word that passed through her mind seemed too much or not enough, half were accusing, the rest apathetic. She just wanted to tell him that she _loved_ him, she'd said it when he was catatonic, why was it so impossible to say it to him now? Her mind wandered to those precious moments back at the Winchester's bunker, cradled in his arms once again, and he'd been what she needed so effortlessly even after everything that had happened to him. He didn't need a readjustment period, he just… knew. Yet there she stood like a bump on a log as he sat despondent. She didn't have any excuse; she hadn't endured nine years of hell and there was no torture or trauma. She was just a poor, jaded excuse for a human being, too embarrassed and scared to even attempt showing any further semblance of emotion.

"Gabriel?" she finally spoke, taking a small and cautious step towards him, resisting the selfish urge to just rebury herself in his chest like she had been hours before.

He said nothing, he didn't even flinch. This was not the same Gabriel she had always known. If she hadn't seen his wings with her own eyes she would probably doubt this was him at all. There was no eyebrow wiggling or theatrics, no tricks or grandeur, just a broken shell of his former glory. He was a whole new man, and not for the better. It felt like starting over from the beginning, she didn't know who this was. He was a stranger wearing her long lost lovers face. She had to come to terms with the fact that he would probably never be back. Not fully, anyway. It was time to accept Gabriel for who he was now, and help put back whatever missing pieces they could find, and if in the end, he was missing a few chunks of the picture, that'd be okay too. But would they ever be happy again? Were the both too far gone to get back to where they had been?

Finally, her heart won out over her brain, and she ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. It felt reflexive again, her subconscious kicking into gear. His body stayed rigid, his elbows still locked against his thighs as his forehead pressed awkwardly into her chest in her embrace. Her fingers instinctively returned to the now knotted hair behind his ears, raking her fingers through the honey blonde waves and he felt his breathing quicken as his chest began to ache. This feeling was becoming all too familiar now. For him, it had been one thousand years. He'd sat in hell, for one thousand years, being tortured and mutilated, fed upon and degraded. Each one hundred and twenty he'd known it was one up here on the Earth, another year that went by where he'd broken his promise. He'd lived one thousand years without her, and here she was… finally. She smelled the same, like honeysuckle and the old leather seats of her car. She felt the same, as her arms cradled him and her fingers worked their magic, and damn, did he love her all the same, too.

Exhaling a despairing groan of relief, he melted into her arms, wrapping his own tightly around her waist. He buried his face into her chest, pulling her as close as humanly possible, tearless whimpers falling from his lips as his fingertips dug into her back, desperate to be certain this was real, to reacquaint himself with every inch of her. She was the only thing that mattered, the only reason he'd had any fight at all left within him, and she was too close and too far at the same time. It was overwhelming and disheartening, he felt his body going into overdrive. When she leaned over and placed a lingering kiss onto his head, he felt one tear fall from her cheek onto his scalp, her arms tightening protectively around him and her nose still buried in his hair. This felt... good, and he wanted more.

Cautiously, he unwrapped one arm from around her and pulled his head away from her embrace. The looks in their eyes mirrored one another as they stared, only hers were filled with tears. It was apprehension and relief, all mixed into one hopeful gaze. Gently, he laid his hand on her cheek, and without a thought, she leaned her head into his touch, sighing as her eyes snapped shut from the exhilaration that one small gesture sent her plummeting into. His hand was warm and soft, exactly like she remembered, his touch still so tender and benevolent. His fingers lightly gripped around the base of her head and she heard him whisper 'I'm going to kiss you', everything snapped. Her doubts faded away. He'd given her a moment to deny him, but the thought never passed her mind.

He wasted not a second. There was no fluttering brush of his lips on hers, to ease them into it. He captured her lips hard between his as he pulled her face down to his level, and she responded just as fervently as her fingers locked into his hair, anchoring her to him. Her heart felt whole again, finally, after all these years. Moving on had been an illusion. She'd thought she was fine, over that flighty angel that had swept her off her feet, but the feeling that filled her chest at that moment proved her wrong beyond belief. It was like every molecule revved back to life, warmth washing through her, and she gave in to him completely. She was unequivocally and irrevocably his, and she would do anything for him. Lips dragged across one another gracefully, no learning curve or lapse in memory. It was effortless and fluid; it didn't feel like nine years had separated this kiss from their last. It didn't matter anymore, this was now, and they were here. It was a kiss that made her realize she'd never been this happy before in her entire life.

His hand slipped up the hem of her shirt, exploring the skin of her back, his fingertips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He needed her, he could feel himself rebuilding, that aching hole he'd thought bottomless slowly filling in as her tongue ran into his mouth, meeting his with a matched frenzy. As his touch danced along her ribs and back, she unwrapped her arms, throwing her jacket from her shoulders. She'd been waiting too long to delay this any further, her primal needs were taking over. Just as soon as the leather had crumpled to the floor, Gabriel's fingers grabbed the hem of her worn tank top and ripped it over her head, his lips crashing back to hers as soon as the fabric had passed between them. He relished in the freedom his hands now had to roam, ghosting over unfamiliar raised lines of scar tissue that had formed. She felt thinner, her ribs more prominent than he thought he remembered.

The buttons of his shirt were soon being worked on by her fumbling fingers, her brain working faster than her body could keep up with. The anticipation for feeling his skin on hers too strong for coherent thought processes. Thankfully, this was nothing new, although it was slightly magnified. He aided her by working his way from the bottom and meeting her at the the fourth button, almost grinning into her lips as she shoved the fabric off his shoulders, working the rest off his arms. When her fingernails raked through the light dusting of hair on his chest he couldn't hold back the satisfied groan that reverberated through him, the sound vibrating through her mouth as their lips continued, the pace slowing, their movements growing more impassioned than frantic. She poured everything she could muster into him, hoping he could feel the things she couldn't find the words to convey.

Her hands shot down to the button of his jeans, quickly making work of the metal as he stood to kick his remaining clothing off. He returned the gesture, stripping her down until they both stood raw and naked in front of one another. He grabbed both her hands as he looked her up and down, searing the image into his once brain again. The look in his eyes killed her. Never in her life had anyone looked at her with the pure, unadulterated adoration that Gabriel did. It wasn't nerve wracking like it was with everyone else, it was almost comforting as his eyes scanned over her form, memorizing every freckle and scar. Her eyes flicked down as her cheeks flushed pink, and he smiled. Some things never changed, and for that he was glad. When he smiled, the greatest wave of relief washed over her, and she couldn't help but lean up and kiss it, her muscles mirroring his as the corners of her mouth lifted, a breathy laugh hitting his lips. She'd been waiting a very long time to see that goofy, lopsided grin, and it didn't disappoint.

With a gentle push she guided him back to the bed, garnering no resistance from the man in front of her, his mouth still pulling everything it could from hers. He sat, pulling her into his lap by her hips, shifting them both into the center of the bed, her knees straddling his thighs, but carefully holding herself out of his lap. She knew what she wanted, but the last shred of doubt in the back of her mind held her back, _what if he didn't?  
_  
"I do," he feathered against her lips, his breath warm and sweet, his kiss finding her again as he dragged his nose along her cheek.

As her body sunk down onto him, he hissed, his face contorting in what appeared to be pain and she froze, her eyes growing wide in fear. He was completely overcome by the overstimulation, his nerves were hyperaware, sending burning waves throughout his entire body. It had been so long since he'd felt pleasure of any kind, and the sensation was beyond any intensity he had expected. He tried to tether himself to her, gripping at the softness of her hips, trying to feel her, to remember her. But he couldn't. Just another piece of himself he'd been robbed of, another shred of what little dignity he had left falling away.

"Oh no, I'm, I'm sorry-" she stammered, immediately trying to climb off of him, but his hands kept her rooted against him.

"Gimme a second," he breathed, reassuring her as he pressed his forehead into hers, eyes still tightly shut.

As his lips returned to hers, she was frozen, she couldn't believe that yet again her selfishness had won out. All he ever did was give, and all she had ever done was take. Her mouth stayed stiff against his, refusing to give in to his affections, she didn't deserve them. When his gestures were unreturned, he moved his lips down to her jaw, pecking as he followed the curve up behind her ear, making sure to hit the hollow behind it. This wasn't her fault, but he knew she was taking blame. Everything had begun to calm down, his body responding to the pleasure now, and he wanted her, wanted everything she was willing to give him. He lifted her hips up no more than an inch, testing his reactions, and as her body slid back down he couldn't control the euphoric whine that escaped from his throat.

"Don't-" She began, her guilt still heavy in her stomach.

"Please," he begged, his lips sloppily returning to hers. He felt it now, the deep intrinsic thirst, "I need you."

Unable to resist his pleas, she lifted herself up and dropped down again, earning a contented hum from the man beneath her, tongue running softly over her pulse point as he used his hands to grind her body into his. He relished in this feeling. For the first time in one thousand years he wasn't feeling pain, fear, anger, or betrayal. He was now filled with nothing but bliss and love and desire. He'd finally broken free, that knot untangling and the tension it had caused slowly washing away. As her hips continued their slow, methodical pace, he felt her warmth washing through him, her lips again pouring every ounce of love she had into his. Their whimpers and moans mingled in the air, his hands again roaming the skin of her ribs and back, her arms locked around his neck, one hand gently entangled in his hair. It didn't feel real, they'd both dreamed and imagined this moment for so long, it was seemingly impossible to believe they were here. They were together.

His hips lifted to meet hers as her pace quickened, she could feel his fingers gripping a little tighter, the muscles in his arms tightening around her. All she wanted was to give him relief, in any and every way. This was the only way she knew how. It felt cheap and easy, but also so damn good. Memories of the past washed through her, the effortless way he'd always been able to physically translate his love for her and she hoped he was feeling just a fraction of that from her now.

The tightness in his belly was growing, his control over himself faltering as his sounds became more desperate as he dropped his head to her shoulder. He pulled her closer to him, her chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was cool against his overheated skin and he took in every sensation for one final moment. He knew he would never feel what he did at that second ever again, and while it hurt to remember why, it was a love he had never before known possible. Shattered and weak, all but ruined, they had overcome.

With a scream, he let the explosion of release flow through him, every muscle relaxing as he collapsed limp against her, her arms holding him strong and steady. Finally, he felt more like himself, one large piece being placed back where it belonged. He was trembling in her embrace, panting as he sorted through the jumbled mess in his head. He felt afraid to move. A few hours ago he'd begged for death and now, this reality should have been impossible to accept, but it wasn't. Memories came rushing back, missing bits of his past fighting through the darkness of Asmodeus, it was liberating as he watched his life replay before him, wrapped tightly within the arms of the one he loved above all others.

She curled herself around him completely, arms tights around her neck as her cheek rested against the back of his head, every inch of her body pressed against him. His breathing was finally beginning to settle, no longer rapid and shallow, a tranquility settling over him. He'd wrapped his arms around her waist, his face still buried in the crook of her neck.

"I missed you," she cooed, running one hand up and down his neck and head, "I missed you so much."

"I love you," he mumbled against her throat, barely even audible, the vibration of his voice against her skin shooting through her like a miniature shockwave.

Hearing him say it finally shattered through that layer of ice that had frozen over her through the years of his absence. His confession had finally rekindled what it was like to love, and be loved, the softness of those emotions. She'd all but turned to stone, but here, with him, she felt a vulnerability she'd never felt before, and never would with anyone else. She remembered the freedom that he'd shown her, because it didn't matter if her singing was terrible, or that she drank enough whiskey to knock a grown man out, he didn't care, he just wanted her, exactly as she was.

"I love you," she finally professed, pushing her face to his and kissing him softly, "so much."

"Hm," he murmured, smiling again against her lips, bigger this time, "I was getting a little worried."

She laughed, pushing him back to lying down, collapsing against his chest, keeping her gaze locked on his.

"Thought maybe you moved onto bigger and better things," he teased, running the backs of his fingers down her cheek and jaw.

"What's bigger and better than you?" she replied, dipping her head to kiss his chest, her hair falling around her like a veil.

"Bigger? Many things. Better? Well, I can't think of any, and that is not a matter of opinion."

"I need a shower, if that interests you."

"If it didn't, I'd be concerned."

 _This_ was her Gabriel. When her eyes met his again, they were bright and gold, dancing with mischief and a little bit of mystery. The corners of his lips were ticked upwards towards his eyes, the faintest sign of his dimples appearing on his cheeks, and it gave her the greatest sense of solace. Reluctantly, she rolled off of him and stood, the effects of the past day finally catching up to her. She was hungry, exhausted, and in desperate need of some decent water pressure, and more of him. He padded behind her to the bathroom, stepping into the raining warmth, arms immediately wrapping around her middle as his chest pressed into her back. As she reached her hand for the small hotel-sized bottle of shampoo, his arm came from behind her, grabbing her fingers and pulling them back to rest with his against her stomach.

"No point in getting clean just yet, sweetheart."


	4. Chapter 4

_Screams echoed through the barren, cold walls. The stone was freezing beneath his feet, eyes blind in the pitch black of the cell he'd called home for years now. Three years to be exact. He winced from the sting of the thread holding his lips together as he shifted his mouth, running through the wounds as if they were the eye of a needle, the freshly formed bruise on his cheekbone aching through the movement. When would this end? Never. It would never end._

 _"Gabriel," the gravelly Southern voice of Asmodeus sang out from the dark, "come on out boy, I need a pick me up."_

 _His heart began to race, thudding against his ribs as the echoing footsteps got closer and closer. He had nothing left to give, what more could he want?_

 _"Gabriel, don't make me come in there."_

 _The angel whimpered pathetically as he slid out from the corner, unable to rise to his feet. Pain shot through his arms as his palms planted into the scabrous floor, almost giving out as he bore his weight down. Slowly, he dragged his limp body to the barred door that contained him, seeing now the faint blur of white waiting to greet him. He could feel the darkness emanating off of it, along with his own powers, his grace singing to him even from inside the demon, begging to be released._

 _"There you are."_

 _Agony seared through his scalp as fingers wound into the blood matted hair on his head, pulling him upright onto his knees, opening his neck to a position of complete vulnerability; to complete submission. He'd been practically numbed to the burn of the needle piercing the yellow and purple welted skin of his neck, the ominous chuckle of his captor always followed, demeaning the fading angel further and further every time. He was reduced to nothing._

 _"I paid your dearly beloved a little visit today," Asmodeus taunted as he injected the swirling silver remnants he'd drawn out into his forearm, a sinister smile plastered on his scarred face._

 _Gabriel felt an emotion surge through him for the first time in a long time—fury. His hands shot to the bars, shaking the rusted iron on it's hinges. He felt power wash through him, what few ounces of grace he still had revving to life and pushing forward. The string on his lips loosening as he finally began to tear through the fibers as an angry roar broke free from his chest._

 _"Careful now," Asmodeus warned as he crouched, coming face to face with the rage-filled eyes of his prisoner, "You've been good, and I'm a man of my word. But one toe out of line and with great pleasure I'll ensure she's…"_

 _Slowly_ , _the_ _demon_ _dragged_ _his_ _finger_ _across_ _his_ _throat_ , _tilting_ _his_ _head_ _to_ _one_ _side_ , _grinning_ _from_ _ear_ _to_ _ear_ …

"No!" Gabriel screamed, shooting upright, throwing the warm, weighted object from his chest off and onto the bed.

Sweat was pouring from his face, body trembling as he attempted to identify his surroundings. Moonlight was faintly shining in from a window and he was sitting on something soft and warm. This didn't feel like hell, but that was always what Asmodeus had wanted Gabriel to think...

"Hey… hey," a frantic, sleepy voice sounded from beside him.

Instinctively, and still half asleep, Liv reached for him, wanting to comfort him, reassure him. Her brain still wasn't working right, exhaustion clogging every one of her senses. She couldn't have been asleep for more than two hours. Her fingers came to his arms, only to immediately be batted away, the impact of his flailing, defensive hands stinging where they landed. Trying not to react, worried it would only derail him further, she bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing the surprised little yelp that threatened to sneak out, pulling her arms back in close to her chest. His head began whipping from side to side, as if he was unfamiliar, misplaced, a trail of incomprehensible mutters falling from his lips.

"Gabriel!" Liv called sharply, causing his terrified eyes to shoot in her direction as she leaned to her left to turn on the bedside lamp.

The prior days events began trickling back as he looked at her, sleep tousled and panicked, "Liv?"

"You're okay, I'm here."

"Fuck…"

Tears pricked at his eyes as shame came flooding through his mind, replacing his terror. Still broken, still useless, and unable to distinguish reality from nightmares. This was what he'd been reduced to. He turned and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his chin tucked deeply into his chest. He should have known, remembered, but he was still ruled by fear. He was still a prisoner.

Slowly, she crawled over to the huddled man perched with his back to her, careful not to move too quickly, to keep from shocking him even further. Her heart hurt for him, what momentary happiness they had found was seemingly a ruse, a false sense of normalcy. Her soul cried out to the absent powers above to please help him, but there was no one, there would always be no one.

Warm arms gently circled around his middle, strong and present. As her chest pressed against his back and her cheek gently came to rest against the nape of his neck, he pinched his eyes shut. _This_ was real. _She_ was real. The calm pounding against the wall of anxiety in his chest begging to run free was real. Asmodeus was gone, dead, burned to ash at his own hand, but that hadn't erased the damage or fixed his shattered identity. He tried to anchor himself to the way she felt molded against him, her position comforting, yet guarding. The way her bare skin felt on his was euphoric, his nerves singing in relief as she sat perfectly still, holding him as he worked through his racing thoughts. _This_ _was_ _real_.

Finally he responded, unsure of how much time had passed. Gently, he ran his hand across her arms around his stomach, stopping and entwining his fingers with hers when they met, hers immediately responding with a reassuring squeeze. She was afraid to push him, unsure of what images were flashing behind his tightly closed eyes. Wishing there was a way to transfer his pain to her, she nuzzled her nose into the hair behind his ears. Whatever he needed, she would be. As hard as it had seemed to again surrender herself to another person, sitting here with him was effortless. He sighed as he leaned back into her embrace, shifting to the side slightly to give his lips access to her temple, planting a lingering kiss. Confident now that he at least knew who she was, and where he was, she lifted her head and rested her chin over his shoulder.

"Better?" she cooed softly, remembering the similar way their roles had been reversed the day before.

"No," he answered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Not yet," she promised, and she meant it.

She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, tightening her grip around his waist. He responded with a muffled groan, melting into her. The key to healing was here, but there was still one more step to take, one more wrong to right. They'd never be safe until the final name on the list had been crossed off, and Asmodeus had only been the first. He would never rest until revenge had been drawn out in blood, he couldn't. Loki had started it, and Gabriel would end it.

As she laid herself back into the blankets, he followed her every motion, curling up behind her as she turned to her side, clicking the light back off. He read the red numbers illuminated on the nightstand clock, 1:27. This poor woman was exhausted, he could feel it. Her heart rate was rapid, still reeling from the adrenaline surge from his abrupt panicked episode, and he could feel her stomach growling under his arm. He was positive she was feeling absolutely miserable, and it was at his expense. He'd always destroyed her little by little, why would this time around be any different? He should have walked away when he had the chance; he should have never started, he was a curse.

"Talk to me," Liv mumbled, half asleep, but still noticing the way his body was tensing around her.

"No," he answered, quickly and cold.

He didn't want to talk about, he didn't even want to think about it. There was no corner deep enough for him to shove everything floating around in his head, and he certainly wasn't about to welcome it. Her heart sank as he closed himself off, but tomorrow was a new day, a fresh start, and she intended to turn over a new page. Her life of lurching from indecision to indecision, fight to fight needed to end. She was tired, spent, and ready to hold onto the man wrapped around her as if life itself depended on it. As she drifted off to sleep, her typical fantasies played over in her head, as they did every night. Except this time she felt one step closer than she ever thought she would.

It felt like three days had passed. When she woke, the sun was filtering in through the sheer, white curtains, the light bouncing off the bright walls. The bed was warm, almost too warm; this was how a bed felt in a home. Not that she really could remember what a home even felt like, it had been eighteen years since she'd called anything but that old car home. The sheets were soft, the faint scent of fabric softener still evident on the quilt she was buried in. A warm hand was resting on her thigh, still and comforting.

"Morning sweetheart," the bed's other occupant greeted groggily, turning to their side and pressing their chest against her back, an arm lazily draping around her middle.

Gabriel. Home. She really was home.

"Were you, actually asleep?" She asked, shimmying deeper into him, curling her fingers into his.

"Mhmm," he breathed, nuzzling his face into her hair as his lips brushed the hollow behind her ear, "and I'd like to continue unless you had other plans."

Well he seemed better. Although odd that he was actually sleeping, she couldn't deny that it brought her a sense of unbridled happiness. She was certain if had to do with his drained grace, making him more human, and she wondered if these new experiences were part of what was unsettling him so deeply. Her eyes flicked to the clock, 11:46. They'd been sleeping for almost twelve hours. The last time she'd slept more than five… she couldn't even remember. Her body felt good for the first time in a decade, the aches and pains that usually accompanied her waking from a restless night of nightmares and tossing were gone. Soon Gabriel's breathing had slowed and deepened, all signs pointing to him having fallen back into, whatever this could be called. Angel recharge? His breath rhythmically hit the back of her neck, warming and chilling her at the same time. He was safe. She was afraid to move, fearful of disturbing him from his much needed and deserved rest, but she so desperately wanted to see his face.

Slowly she started to shift, inching her body around under his arm, careful not to make any rapid movements. When she'd settled onto her other side, her heart skipped a beat as her eyes landed on one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. He looked so young and unburdened in his sleep. The sight was something she never knew she needed until it was right in front of her. His hair was mussed-up all around his head, messily sticking up in certain places, some falling into his eyes that were free of the trauma etched lines she'd noticed since his return the day before. The light stubble coming in along his chin was mesmerizing, the sprinkling of grays mixed with the golden brown made him look just that much more human; she'd have to convince him to keep it. Subconsciously her hand had found its way to his face, the backs of her fingers gently running up and down his jaw gently, slowly, as if remapping the angles of his face.

"So, do you have other plans?" He mumbled sleepily, his lips slightly ticking upwards into a smirk as his hand began running lazily up and down the bare skin of her back.

There was no point in trying to resist. This may never happen again, and if she didn't make the most of it, this perfect opportunity would go to waste. She nestled in closer to him, letting every one of her senses be all-consumed by him, her lips finding the soft skin of his neck, humming every time they made contact. He remained still as she worked her way around his exposed skin, his fingers continuing along her back, soothing and contented. He felt a small pang of selfishness as her affections went unreciprocated as he let the peace from her closeness wash over him. The night hadn't been easy, but waking up to this had certainly been worth the nightmares. He felt undeserving and unworthy, he shouldn't even be here right now, with her hand gently roaming his chest and her mouth leaving a trail of warmth as she traveled along every inch of exposed skin that she could reach.

"I love you," she murmured against his throat, curling her fingers lightly into his disheveled hair, "forever."

"All I ever wanted," he whispered in response, unsure if it was relief or guilt settling into his stomach.

Her lips found his, pulling him into a slow, burning kiss. He moved with unhindered gratitude, always having been better at showing his emotions than telling. He poured himself into her as he began to take over, his hands finding the softness of her hips before rolling her onto her back. Hovering above her now, he took a moment to gaze down and marvel at the sight beneath him. Something about her seemed different. Everything was softer, gentler, less intent, the angry fire behind her eyes had dimmed. Her brown hair was splayed across the pillow, fanning around her delicate face and he was certain he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his entire existence. How was he ever supposed to have walked away from this? Thousands of years on Earth had certainly built up his self control, but her? It was like a cigar to a smoker or wine to an alcoholic; he was addicted.

"What?" she asked with a nervous smile, as she ran her hands up and down his arms on either side of her.

"Nothing," he cooed, leaning his head down and kissing her deeply once, before pulling back up, "I just like you."

"Shut up."

He drank her laugh in, kissing the end of it into his own smile. If this is what mornings were like, forget days and nights, he'd spend forever staring into those sleep-lidded whiskey eyes, worshipping every inch of her before her feet could even hit the floor. As he pulled his mouth from hers again he rubbed his nose along her cheek, enjoying the frustrated little whine that rumbled in her throat. Her back arched towards him as he continued his slow, tantalizing kisses from her jaw, down her neck, to her collar bone, the pace almost agonizing. The groans and whimpers sighing from her nose matching her fidgeting movements as she craved for more contact. But he showed no signs of relenting any time soon as he again found his way to her lips, his tongue swiping against hers in one swift motion before pulling away once again.

"Stop teasing," she pouted, every nerve tingling, reaching out for him.

"I'm gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he responded as her arms came around his neck, attempting to pull the immovable being back down to her, "but you woke me up. Punishment."

This was the most extraordinary torture she'd ever been subjected to. She wanted him so badly it ached, she was on fire, already covered by a thin sheen of sweat and he hadn't even touched her yet. When his lips locked hard onto her pulse point, she knew she had lost control, moaning as his tongue swiped over the reddening spot, his stubble scratching the sensitive skin only adding to the sensation. If he were anyone else she'd be completely embarrassed at her lack of restraint, but with him, it had always been liberating.

"Gabriel," she sighed, begging with her tone to give her what she so desperately wanted, her knees shooting up and pressing into his sides as she tried to soothe the throbbing between her legs.

"Patience sweetheart," he exhaled, bringing his eyes back to hers, one eyebrow raised, "lay back, and enjoy. I'm just getting started."

Her heart skipped into her throat as his dark, lust-blown eyes bore into hers, his words alone sending another shockwave searing through her. He dipped down again, his hair brushing against her cheeks as he devoured her mouth, finally giving her more than one touch at a time, their tongues battling for dominance. While he still had a reign over his composure, hers was lost. Her hands couldn't land on any one part of him, fingernails leaving trails of red across his skin, trying everything in her power to rile him up as much as he had her, but he remained steadfast.

"I always did love your eagerness," he chuckled as he sat back against his heels, earning him a deathly glare, "still do."

"Stop talking," she hissed, feeling his absence as the cool air of the room hit her overheated skin.

"Or what?"

The cocky grin and arched eyebrow were enough to drive her mad, but the dimples on his cheeks sent her falling over the precipice, and he loved every second of it. Her swollen lips were curled up into the perfect little scowl, her eyes practically black as her dewy skin glinted in the sunlight.

"Sweetheart, you look good enough to eat," he taunted, purposely lowering his voice down a few octaves.

"Oh no…" she groaned, rolling her eyes as a smile stretched across her face, laughter bubbling from her chest.

Scooting himself down the bed, he began to lay on his stomach, peppering her stomach and hips with his lips on his way down. The anticipation was killing her. He was the only person she'd ever felt comfortable enough to share this level of intimacy with, and she'd craved it for so long. When his lips finally sealed over that little bundle of nerve endings she thought she would explode right then and there. The scream that erupted from her mouth was sinful, every muscle in her body contracting at once. It took all of her remaining self control to not lock her thighs around his head as he continued, his tongue and lips working in perfect tandem against her. She didn't dare look down at him, knowing full well his eyes would be locked on her, afraid that that was all she needed to topple over the edge. She wasn't ready for this to be over. Her toes curled as her abdominal muscles spasmed; her fingers had wound their way into his hair, anchoring him to his current task.

"Why are you holding back?" He whispered, his breath hot against her, the new sensation making her efforts even more difficult, "Don't think I can't tell."

His lips moved to her inner thighs as he waited for his answer, letting her mind clear just enough to sigh out her answer, "I don't want it to end."

"Who said it had to end?"

When his tongue returned to her core she finally succumbed, screaming his name into the quiet room, and he stayed unrelenting, only slowing his pace just enough to not overstimulate her. She was writhing again moments later, completely submitted to the man between her legs. She'd given in, her thighs spread wide on either side of him, one hand combing through his honey blonde hair as she finally followed his instruction to lay back and enjoy. Moans, mutters, and whines of his name bubbled off her lips like champagne, that coil of pressure returning to her belly. Gentler this time, that coil snapped again, the wave of release washing through her contracted muscles as he eased her through, her eyes finally brave enough to look down at him. With a gentle pull on his chin she welcomed his lips back to hers, kissing him deep as she waited for him to take the next step. But he didn't.

"What about you?" She breathed, regrettably pulling away from his worshipful mouth.

"What about me?" He replied, resting his hand on her face, running his thumb along her puffy bottom lip. "I got what I wanted."

This had to be a dream. There was no way this was real life. The fresh breeze floating in from the open window, the sunlight filtering through the gauzy white curtains; this was a dream. Nowhere like this existed in her world, and there was no way anyone like Gabriel could exist anywhere but a dreamworld. She was under a djinn spell. That was it. It explained everything… except the gurgling rumbling through her stomach right now, she couldn't remember ever having fantasized about being absolutely starving.

"So what should we do today besides each other?" Gabriel asked, snapping her back to reality with his lopsided smirk.

"I think I need to eat, before we do anything else," she groaned, unable to focus on anything besides the emptiness sitting in her abdomen now.

Vaguely she remembered passing a diner moments before pulling into the motel, her fantasies now shifting from Gabriel's talented tongue to eggs slathered in hot sauce and a half pound of bacon. But that also meant pulling her gelatin body from this warm bed and away from the face hovering inches above her. She couldn't help but smile as she looked at him. Whatever this world was, she was going to die here, because she was never leaving.

"I'll go, I remember that place right down the road," he cooed, his voice soft and endearing.

Before her cloudy mind could even react he'd rolled off of her, his bare feet padding gently against the wooden floor as he searched the room for his long since discarded clothing. She was instantly colder, missing even the weight of his body on the mattress with her. She turned and watched as he slid his jeans back on, soaking in how absolutely inormal/i this moment felt. There was no case, no monsters, no demons, it was just them, waking up at noon and staying in bed for another hour just because they could. His search continued for his shirt, and she couldn't help but laugh at the way his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and his lips fluttered as he mumbled to himself.

"Have you seen my…" he muttered, looking in the most obscure places he could find, "the hell? Did it grow legs?"

She spotted it almost immediately, crumpled in a ball in the corner by her side of the bed, but watching him look was providing far too much entertainment to give in just yet. As he crouched down to crawl under the small wooden desk, a pit dropped into her stomach. He was leaving. He was going to walk out that door, and what if he never came back? Last time, he hadn't come back, what would be different about this time? She wasn't about to lose him for a cheap diner breakfast.

"You don't have to go," she snapped, voice much harder than she intended, and he was taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanor.

"Are you just gonna starve?" He questioned, looking at her skeptically, reading through her now rigid posture and sharp gaze.

"I can go."

"Why don't you want me to…"

It dawned on him. She didn't trust him. She didn't want him to leave, because she didn't think he'd come back. A flurry of emotions circled through him, guilt, disappointment, a little bit of anger and resentment. While he knew he deserved her doubt, he didn't understand why she couldn't comprehend that _it hadn't_ _been_ _his_ _fault._ She acted like he'd wanted to leave her, that he was some flight risk.

"Liv, come on. You honestly can't have that little faith in me. It's right down the road," he scoffed, raising his hands in exasperation.

"That's… it's not that. That's not it," she stumbled. For someone who lied for a living, this was pretty dismal.

"Then what?"

"I just, I can do it myself. You don't even eat, you don't need to go."

This was bad. There was no way he was buying this for one second. It felt wrong and accusatory, but somewhat justified, right?

"If you don't even trust me to go half a mile down the road then…" he sat on the edge of the bed, clearly agitated, "what's the point?"

His words stung deep. Her cheeks started to burn as the weight of them settled into her chest. He was right. This was supposed to be a fresh start. She was being unfair, untrusting, this wasn't how she wanted to begin again. It felt like going against her better judgement, but her judgement had also been seriously skewed from a life of solitude and barricades. What did she know about healthy relationships? Not a thing. What did she know about someone actually wanting to take care of her? Also, not a thing. He deserved a chance.

"You're right. I'm sorry," she replied, hanging her head, trying to suppress the warning flares going off in her head, "I just…"

"I know," he whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace, "I'll be back in twenty."

She nodded against his chest, trying to surrender to the good thoughts playing over in her mind. When was the last time someone had went out and gotten her breakfast? Why was this a bad thing? He would be back. He was coming back, with food, and those stupid dimples and messy hair. Twenty minutes.

"Don't forget hot sauce," she mumbled against his neck before lifting her head.

"I wouldn't dare," he assured, "I survived nine years of hell, no way I'm dying over forgetting Tabasco."

With a quick kiss to her forehead, he climbed off the bed and snatched his shirt from the corner, eyeing her bitterly as he realized she'd known where it was all along. She responded with a mischievous shrug, smirking, feeling that lightheartedness she'd woken up with returning, or maybe it was lightheadedness, at this point she wasn't really sure.

"Where's the keys?" He asked, and her eyes widened.

"Keys? You haven't driven in nine years! No way you're getting the keys to my sweet girl," she snapped, shaking her head.

"What? Come on it's like riding a bike. It's locked up here with all my other worldly, celestial knowledge, it's not like I _forgot._ "

"Do you even know how to ride a bike?"

"No, but I know how to drive a car. Oh, there they are."

"No!"

As she shrieked he ran to the door, opening it wide as she clambered out of bed, forcing her to stumble and grab the thick heavy quilt to shield herself from any unsuspecting eyes, giving him just enough time to slip out, blowing her a kiss from the entryway before closing the door behind him. She knew she'd be too late, but she scrambled around the room, locating panties and a tank top and throwing them on before whipping the door open. She'd caught him as he was reversing her beloved Charger from its parked spot right in front the of hotel, spraying gravel everywhere as he laid his foot down heavy on the gas.

"Don't crash my fucking car!" She screamed as he put the car into drive, turning the radio up to drown her out.

He responded with a smirk and a thumbs up, her concern for her poor, precious coupe only growing as he sped off down the parking lot, the wheels squealing as he pulled out onto the road.


	5. Chapter 5

He'd always loved this old car, for many reasons. Liv always kept the thing in pristine condition, the engine ran better than most other cars forty years its senior, the leather interior was spotless and she always kept a fifth of whiskey in the glovebox. They'd also had their fair share of good times in the backseat, and the front seat, and on the hood. Typically he never liked to travel by car, it was slow and tiresome, but with her he'd have driven anywhere. The way she sang at the top of her lungs (absolutely terribly) and the wind whipping through her hair, it had always made the suffering worthwhile. It wasn't hard for him to understand why she'd always considered the thing her home, but he'd always felt she deserved a better one. A real one, but she'd always been content criss-crossing the country and he'd never argued.

The diner was bustling, much busier than he was anticipating for two o'clock on a weekday. The crowd had his heart pounding in seconds. Anyone, or anything, could be in here… his eyes couldn't land on each individual face fast enough, ensuring each was actually human, no angels or demons lurking behind poor unfortunate vessels. Of course he was weaponless and virtually still powerless, he'd be lucky if he could smite a cricket right now never mind a real threat. He tried to make out any discernible conversations but everything was just a jumbled mess of niceties and small talk.

"Hey there darlin,'" a petite blonde purred from behind the metal counter, eyeing him up and down as she pulled a pen down from her messy bun, "What can I do for you?"

"Uh, I just need something to go," he told her, drawing out the 'o' as his eyes continued to dart around, everyone checking out so far.

"Sure thing hun, need a menu?"

"Yes. Please."

Content that no one would be whisking him back off to anymore luxurious getaways, he finally looked at the waitress tending to him, giving her a polite smile as she passed him the small laminated breakfast options. Something with bacon, eggs and coffee. He'd highly doubted her palate had refined in even the slightest bit over time; if a monster wasn't the thing to end her it would certainly be her diet.

"Yeah, I'll take the number three, over easy, extra bacon and two coffees please," he ordered with a smirk, flipping the menu back to the woman.

"Gimme about twenty five minutes," she responded, tossing the paper back to the kitchen and quickly turning her attention back to him.

"If you could do fifteen, I'd be eternally grateful."

Stepping up the charm, he smiled a little bigger, his dimples depressing into his cheeks as his eyes glinted in the sunlight. She was cute, and in any other human lifetime she may have had a chance…

"I'll see what I can do, where ya headed in such a rush?" She asked, leaning over the counter a little further.

"Home," he answered softly, keeping his eyes on her face, his mind wandering back to the woman waiting in bed for him.

Home was that old car, and a motel on the side of the interstate. It was a beach cabin, lazy rainy days, long slow nights and eyes that could get you drunk better than any liquor ever could. He'd run away from home thousands of year ago, every path leading him right to her; to where he belonged.

"Well, your wife's a lucky woman then," the waitress' voice praised as it broke into his train of thought, "Most girls would kill for a man to look like you do when they think about her."

Wife? He whipped his head to look at her, "What?"

"You can practically see the hearts in your eyes honey, she must be real special. I'll get your food out in ten for ya."

"Uh… yeah. Thanks."

The waitress nodded as he gave her a small smile, tapping the side of his bent pointer finger on the counter, her word ricocheting inside his head. _Wife_. Of course, that would never happen, but, would she? His thoughts raced again, except now they were focused on something even more pleasant before a familiar face flashed before his eyes. It didn't matter, nothing mattered until that kill list was burned. Which brought another issue to the forefront, how was he supposed to tell her he was leaving… again. There was no way in heaven or hell that she was getting within fifty miles of Loki. Gabriel had done a lot of work to keep her hidden from him between spell work and warding as it was, and it seemed to still be holding. He wasn't handing her over to him on a silver platter, and it was not going to go over well. She didn't even want him leaving to get breakfast, never mind going off on a revenge fueled Demi-god hunt. He didn't want to upset her, or piss her off, or ruin whatever little bits of trust he was gaining back, but with Loki and sons still out there, neither one of them was safe.

Thirteen minutes. It had been thirteen minutes and it felt like an eternity. Doctor Sexy droned on in the background, unable to hold her attention for more than thirty seconds as she paced the floor, periodically trying to sit still on the bed. There was no reason to keep checking out the window, she'd hear her car pulling up before it was even in sight, but her nerves were winning every war right now. She felt psychotic, controlling, this wasn't healthy. It was shameful. He certainly wasn't going to put up with this for very long, why would he? She wished he would just _talk_ to her, tell her what he was going through, what had happened, how he felt for fucks sake.

Eighteen minutes. This had to be hunger induced paranoia. Was that a thing? It was now. There was no reason to freak out, he was coming back. No demons were out to find him or angels or, _oh shit_. Why did she let him leave? He was powerless, weaponless, defenseless, he was going to get taken again and it was going to be all her fault. No, no demons would be dumb enough to come this deep into Winchester territory, especially after losing their king. They were too busy scrambling to go off rogue searching for an archangel they probably had no idea was one step away from being human. No, they had no idea. He was fine. Everything… was… fine…

The door creaked as he slammed it shut, hearing her scolding him for his vigor in his head as he placed the two coffees into the cup holders. His mouth was downturned as he turned the key in the ignition, dreading the conversation he knew was coming. The conversation of leaving. He'd considered getting the Winchesters involved, maybe they could whisk her off on some case for three days so he could sneak off and gut the four jackasses of the Norse, but that meant talking to the Winchesters. Not something atop his list of favorite things to do, especially not when they were in a pissing match with some alternate hyped-up Michael.

"Oh shit!" he hissed, as the sign to the motel came into view, slowing the engine down praying it got quiet enough to where she wouldn't hear it approaching.

Sighing, he coasted past the building, pulling into a very well-placed (for his sake) convenience store two minutes away. He aimed straight for the clerk at the counter, not willing to waste any extra time searching around.

"I need Tabasco, please tell me you have it," he begged, feeling just as insane as he knew he looked.

"Uh.. yeah. Right over there, by the coffee machine," the monotoned college student responded, her lips curled up in a confused snarl.

"Great, keep the change."

There was no time, he slapped a ten down onto the counter without a second glance before heading off to the shelves, quickly locating what he'd come for just as he heard her calling out for him. At least she didn't sound angry… yet.

Twenty-seven minutes. _Gabriel_ … she'd groaned out once twenty-three had passed, all reason being tossed out the window. He was gone. This was it, with her fucking car and everything. Now she'd have to resort to asking the Winchesters to help her find him, and that was going to go over just about as well as a lead balloon.

"See, I told ya, I'd be back in thirty minutes," that idiotic, sing-song voice sounded as the door to the room clicked open, jolting her upright from her current position (face-down in the pillow exasperation).

"Nice try," she scolded, standing tall on her knees on the unkempt bed, grabbing two handfuls of his shirt as he came in front of her.

He prepared for the worst. Hoping to bridge over her ire with a peace offering, he held up one of the paper cups he was holding and smiled nervously; she never turned down coffee. Until now. As he opened his mouth to apologize and explain, the words were quickly muffled by her lips locking onto his, her tongue darting into his mouth as she kissed him hard. This was a substantially better outcome than any he had been expecting.

"Are you gonna eat me for breakfast?" he chuckled as she stopped for air, slightly angry that his hands were full and unable to ghost around that little strip of her stomach peeking out from the bottom of her worn tank top.

"Maybe," she whispered, grazing her teeth lightly along his bottom lip, her fingers heading straight for the buttons on his shirt.

"As much as I hate to deny any request of yours, especially ones that involve little to no clothing, you really do need actual food."

At just the mention of food, her stomach again reminded her it had been almost forty-eight hours since she'd eaten anything, pushing all other emotions and sensations aside. Her downturned little pout was too hard to resist. As he leaned over to place her coffee on the nightstand, he kissed the scowl right off her lips, relishing in her surprised, muffled squeal. As she sat back, snatching the bag from the edge of the bed, he was again reminded of his incomplete task, his stomach sinking again as the thought of leaving pressed itself to the forefront of his mind. If he told her, she would insist on going with him. If he snuck out, she would never forgive him. It was the very epitome of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but of the two options only one had a small reparable potential. If he could find some way to build a good base, perhaps a short absence would be forgivable.

"Gabe…" a very irritated voice called from behind him.

Digging a hand into his pocket as he turned, he presented himself with hot sauce in hand, smugly smiling as if he hadn't forgotten it at all, at any point.

"That's why you were late. You forgot it, didn't you?" she inquired coyly, weaving her fingers through his as soon as she'd pulled the brand new boxed hot sauce from his hand.

"Nope," he denied, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles, "Let's go out today. Like old times."

Old times. She remembered old times. They were filled with good food, better booze and great sex; there had never been a bad outing when it came to Gabriel. Not even their first one, and she had still despised him for that one. As she munched on her perfectly cooked bacon, she thought back to that night, where everything had changed.

 _The whiskey burned as it slid down her throat. That bottle of beer sitting in the wings was starting to look better and better, but she needed a quick buzz and she needed it now. She'd finally finished that asshole off once and for all; the months and months of chasing had finally reaped its reward. Yet she couldn't quite place why the thought depressed her so much. She'd been after that Trickster for what felt like forever, but she felt a little empty spot now that he was dead._

" _Never took you for a whiskey kinda girl," a voice chirped from beside her, sending a surge of anger through her, but was that also… relief?_

" _I just shoved a stake through your heart," she seethed through gritted teeth, her cheeks growing hot as she felt his gaze on her and the warmth rippling off his body._

" _Trick. Ster."_

" _And you thought coming here and finding me was a good idea? I always penned you for a little stupid but never suicidal."_

" _I have a proposition for you."_

 _Chewing the inside of her lip, she turned to look a him, ticking her head to the side in curiosity. She'd never been this close to him without trying to stab him, did he have dimples?_

" _I wanna take you out," he stated, completely nonchalantly, grabbing the glass from her hand and downing the rest of her drink._

" _Excuse me?" she stammered, knowing for certain she didn't hear that correctly._

" _Come on, we've played cat and mouse with each other for months now, you obviously are terrible at killing me, so time we just call it off and bury the hatchet, no?"_

" _Cat and mouse where I want to shove a blood dipped branch through your chest, not become the bride of Dracula."_

" _To-may-to, to-mah-to."_

 _Why was she even considering this? He was a_ monster _, but the way his hair fell shaggily around his head, curling behind his ears, his sharp nose…_

" _What's in it for me?" She asked, turning her body on the stool to face him, running her tongue along her bottom teeth. It wasn't so bad just to hear what nonsense he was going to try and pull, right?_

" _Besides an evening filled with fun, intrigue and whatever your little heart desires you mean? If, at the end of the night, you still want to shove that stake through my perfectly chiseled chest, I'll let ya," he responded, tapping his heart with his middle finger._

" _You're joking."_

" _For once sugar, I am not."_

" _You'll let me kill you. That gives death before dishonor a whole new meaning."_

" _What can I say? I know that I know how to show a lady a good time."_

 _She eyed him suspiciously as he wiggled his eyebrows, swiping her beer bottle off the bar, drinking half in one fell swig._

" _How do I know this isn't a trick?" she asked, handing the bottle over him to polish off. Why did she do that?_

" _You don't," he scoffed before tipping the bottle against his lips, "But it's worth a shot, no?"_

" _I'm not a dater."_

" _You don't say."_

" _Excuse me?"_

" _Oh sweetheart, you're wound up tighter than a nun's pussy, time to loosen up! Live a little. Maybe pull that stick out of your ass a bit."_

" _So I go out on this date, and then you'll let me gank you?"_

" _Only if you don't have a good time. Participation required."_

" _All right then, what's the game?"_

 _Her heart had been pounding in her chest and her mouth was bone dry. Was it anticipation, or nerves? One corner of his lips pulled up into a little lopsided smirk as he reached his hand out to her, both of them completely unsuspecting of what was to come._

Needless to say, she'd never put that stick back through his chest again, although as a man of his word, he had kept up his end of the bargain. She remembered him flipping the wooden stake (that she now knew wouldn't have done a damn thing to him anyway) back over to her and holding his arms out, ready for her to stab him just as she'd done hours before. But she didn't. She'd let him have his victory and warned if she ever saw him again, all bets were off, that this was his one pass. From that night on, he'd filled her dreams. She'd wondered what his hands would feel like running all over her, his lips, and if his hair was just as soft and silky as it looked. The feeling of pure, unweighted happiness that she'd felt that night plagued her; no matter what she tried she could never replicate it. Then, one day, she'd found herself in a little over her head, swarmed by demons with no back up and she'd written herself off. Just another hunter casualty to add to the books, but he'd swooped in (literally) and saved her ass. It was then that she learned who he really was, after he'd killed six demons with nothing but some snarky remarks and a snap of his fingers. She missed those days, when everything felt simpler.

"You're awfully quiet," Gabriel noted, eyeing her suspiciously yet concerned.

"The last few days are catching up with me, I guess," she answered, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

That was an understatement. This still just felt like an all-too-familiar dream world, but there was just enough painful reality peppered in to make them sure they absolutely were awake. He came over and sat on the bed in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed. It always amazed her how hyperaware he was, never missing a beat when it came to a change in emotion. He knew when she was hungry, tired, or unsure, and he always had the answer to things she didn't even know she needed.

"Let me get dressed, and then we'll go?" she questioned happily, the excitement for the day he had planned brimming over.

The thought of not having to drive for once in her life had won over her concern for the car. He'd made it to the diner and back, clearly he knew what he was doing. Plus, she had no idea where they were going and the thought of ruining the surprise just wasn't worth it. As the world rushed by outside the window, she took the time to just enjoy the sights and the way Gabriel's thumb ran absentmindedly over the back of her hand as he held it on the seat between them. This was it. This was the fresh start, the new beginning; the first day of the rest of her life. She felt cliché, like she was monologuing an excerpt from a Nicholas Sparks novel, but at this point all she could think about was never having to see another monster again for as long as she lived.

It had been an hour drive to a tiny little town she never would have thought could be found in Kansas. It was quaint and charming; green trees lined the sidewalks that led around little bars, restaurants and shops. As she took in the surroundings, she hadn't noticed that Gabriel had gotten out of the car until he'd come around to her side, opening the door and holding his hand out to help her out.

"Such a gentleman," she praised as he guided her to standing, stealing a kiss as soon as she was steady.

"Aren't I always?" he jested before kissing her again, a little bit slower than the previous.

"No. Not even close."

His face ticked in undeniable agreement, there was no way he was winning that fight and he knew it. Stop one of the day was right in front of them: brick oven pizza. Her eyes lit up as he opened the door for her. This was one of her favorite things, and she couldn't believe that he remembered. The smell hit her like a wall, the nostalgia of Sunday afternoons with her dad rekindling as Gabriel slid his hand into hers. He knew why she loved it so much, the mix of happiness and sadness it brought, the memories that danced in her eyes with the flames as she watched the fire burning. He'd always noticed a particular sense of solace in her afterwards, and he wanted to replicate that, to keep her in that perfectly contented state.

A comfortable silence settled between them, and she'd never been more thankful for the simplicity of being with him. They shared the same side of a booth, his thigh resting gently against hers as he sipped his beer, his arm lazily propped up on the wood behind her back. This was the calmest she'd been in almost a decade.

"Baby," she started, turning slightly and running her fingers up his thigh, "can I ask you something?"

His chest swelled at the return of her pet name for him as he also noticed the slight hint of nervousness in her voice, "Anything."

The words weren't forming, why was this so hard to say? It had been consuming her thoughts since she'd woken up that morning, and if she couldn't even say it to him, then it was never going to come out. There was a mix of guilt, and fear of the unknown, but also immense excitement at the thought of something new; something better. Her fingers fidgeted with the thick hem on the side of his jeans, she needed to just blurt it out and say it.

"What is this? Nervous? Come on, spit out it out or I'll go fishing around til I find it" he teased, wiggling his finger at her forehead.

"I want to get out. I want to be done," she confessed bluntly, turning her eyes up to look at him.

"Then I'll get you out."

Relief washed through her like a tidal wave. He leaned down and kissed her temple and she closed her eyes, taking full advantage of her newfound serenity. But for Gabriel, a pit of dread had dropped into his stomach. He still had work to do. He wasn't out, and he couldn't be out until Loki was dead. The task had to be completed for himself, and for her. His hole was being dug deeper and deeper with every passing second, he had to find a way to get away for just a few days. Then they could start over, go anywhere, do anything, with no looming fedora-wearing, lollipop hoarding cloud following behind them…

Her phone buzzing in her pocket woke her from her happy little state of mind. She knew who it was.

 **Please. We need Gabriel. Help us find him. We have a way**.

Sam. Quickly, she tossed the phone deep back into her pocket, hoping Gabriel hadn't caught sight of it from beside her, but he had. There went pawning her off to the Winchesters for a few days. It also made his mission that much more impossible now that those two bumbling idiots would be on his tail. So there were only two options left: reasoning with her to let him go off and do this alone, or taking off unexpectedly and hoping to an absent father that she'd forgive him when he came back. So no options, he was screwed either way.

"Ready for stop number two?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light and her mind off of anything negative or triggering.

Stop number two was even better than the first. At first it had confused her slightly, but after the realization that Gabriel had been denied music for a very time, it made perfect sense. A small folk band was playing on a little makeshift stage in the center of a park, people mingling about as the guitars strummed on. This day had already been too much, the other shoe was going to have to fall soon, but every part of her hoped it wasn't going to be anytime in the near future. Let it fall in a few years, or a decade, when she was cozied up on some beach somewhere with a fallen, runaway angel. Just give her this, she'd earned it. Her life had yet to start the upwards turn everyone had promised would come after her dad had died. Sure there had been a few blips of reprieve, but nothing that had made her think life would eventually turn out to be okay. As she sat on the grass, nestling herself between the knees of the solid man behind her, she thought maybe today was the day, this was the start of the climb. Gabriel's arms wrapped tightly around her, protective yet an embrace filled with love.

"So this is what you want huh?" he murmured into her hair, breaking a huge smile out onto her face.

"Mhmm," she hummed in response, taking in everything around her from the fresh air, to the music, to the warm grip around her middle.

"No more stabbing and shooting, blood or guts or glory? You're moving on to farmers markets and picnics in the park?"

"I guess so."

A few years ago she would have scoffed at that statement, probably followed up with some snappy remark, but today was different. She turned her head to look at him, his face almost instinctively leaning down and placing a small, chaste kiss on her smirking lips. He loved her, there was no doubt about it. There was no denying it, or pushing it away, it was here to stay as long as she would have him.

"You gonna join me?" she asked, laughing, but he could hear the nerves in her voice.

"Do you want me?" he replied, eyes intently bearing into hers, showing her his question was no joke.

"You're all right I guess, think I wanna keep you. But are you ready for a world of domestic bliss, Mr. All-Powerful-Warrior-of-Heaven?"

"I've been ready for retirement for awhile now, sweetheart."

He kissed her again, deeper this time, with more intent. He ran his tongue against her bottom lip, not caring if people were watching as she granted him access, his mouth practically devouring hers. If this is what life could be like all the time, he needed to be living it. For years he'd imagined giving her everything she deserved, everything he knew she secretly wanted deep down behind battle hardened walls, and she was finally giving in.

"Want a beer?" he asked as she broke for air, eyeing a tent selling it not far off behind the stage.

"Sure," she grinned, grabbing his top lip between hers one more time.

Jogging off, he felt a deepening sense of dread. He wasn't going to be able to leave. What were the odds of success if Loki came to him? Or would he just cop out and sell him off again, too afraid to come and face Gabriel himself. He didn't even know where to start looking for Loki, he'd always taken special precautions for literally everything. Always afraid, always sending someone else to do his bidding, to fight his battles. Loki wouldn't come to him, but perhaps he'd send his sons, and that was at least a start. Maybe revenge wasn't the most important thing in the world anymore. Maybe it was a little mousy-haired hunter, a beach cabana in Mexico, and all-you-can-drink tequila.

Had he been paying attention, he may have seen it coming. As his back turned, he found himself hurdling through the atmosphere. His eyes widened as his feet hit solid concrete. The sky was no longer sunny and blue, but rather black with not even a star in sight. His body begged him to flee, but if whoever was doing this knew where he was, Liv was in danger too. He whirled around, surging his faltering grace through himself. His eyes blazed blue, but as his gaze fell to his transporter, the adrenaline began to fade.

"Kali?" he asked, staring at the face of his former lover, still as hard as stone.

"Hello Gabriel."


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel was staring into a face he never thought he would see again. Kali had broken his heart, tried to kill him, and outed him to her fellow pagans, making a whole big mess of an already messy situation. Still, after all of that, he'd ensured her safe passage out of the Elysian with the Winchesters and Liv, who hadn't been thrilled about the entire exchange between himself and the fellow goddess. It was hard enough telling her that Kali was his ex, for lack of a better word, but it had been even worse convincing her that going the romantic route with her to gain an upper hand was a good idea. It also didn't help that Liv had been right. Thankfully he'd "died" before she got the chance to shove the 'I told you so' in his face. Although he'd have taken her smug annoyance over leaving her a million times over.

Her stony expression was unreadable, but she stood only inches away from him, her eyes bearing unwaveringly into his. His heart was pounding as his mind ran over her potential intentions, all of them being bad. Was she here to finish the job? Was she helping Loki? Softly, her hands came to his forearms and before he could react, her lips firmly pressed into his, and he felt nothing. No pining, no sadness, not even a fond memory passed through his head.

"Sorry," he said, clicking his tongue as he pulled his face away, "not interested."

As he pushed her body away from his by her upper arms, a satisfied little smirk spread onto her face, "So you have changed."

"Look, Kali, what we had was special, it really was but-" he started, agitation setting in.

"That's not why I'm here," Kali cut him off.

"Okaaaay, so?"

"Loki."

His heart dropped into his stomach. He'd recruited her. She was here to take him back, his former lover scorned was finally getting her revenge. Maybe she'd moved on and shacked up with that pompous ass. After Baldur had met his demise surely she'd found someone else, and Loki took pride in winning and stealing what had once been Gabriel's.

"Whatever he's paying you, I'll find a way to double it, just, please…" Gabriel begged, raising his hands in submission.

"I'm here to help you," she said bluntly, his gaze softening on her, "I owe you a debt and I'm paying up."

Life for a life. His nostrils pulled inward as his adrenaline surged, eyes hardening as his desire for revenge coursed through him. He didn't know what she meant, how she planned to help, but this put him one step closer to the end game. Now he'd be able to hit Loki head on, hopefully unsuspecting. She held out a small slip of paper to him, his fingers shaking as he took it, her expression flashing her fear for no more than a blink. On it was written an address for Amarillo, Texas in ornate penmanship, nothing more.

"That's where they are. All four of them. They'll move along soon, so act quickly," she told him, his fists clenching at her words.

"Thanks," he mumbled, his thoughts too preoccupied with images of the four of them, dead by his hand.

"Be careful. I can sense how low your grace is. He will, too. Also, keep her away from him."

"What?"

"He's well aware of what she means to you, of her importance. The human. Don't let her near him, for both of your sakes."

So he did know. The little net of safety he thought he'd woven had long been shredded, and Loki was no doubt waiting for the opportune time to use this monumental play. Kali was right, he had to move quickly, because the enemy was going to strike soon regardless.

"What does he know?" Gabriel asked as Kali moved back in towards him, needing as much information as she had to offer.

"Everything. If he gets to her, you will not see her again. He'll be sure of that. I'll speak no more of it, I've risked enough. Good luck. We're even," she snapped back, before grabbing his arm and returning him to the park in Kansas.

Life here was still moving slowly, leisurely, only fueling the rage growing in Gabriel's chest. His jaw was twitching as he tried to balance his emotions. He couldn't face Liv in this state, she'd catch on immediately and he didn't need to add anything else to this already impossible situation. He needed the katanas, he needed them now. He also needed the woman he just promised he'd whisk away to a new and better life to somehow understand the position he was in. Unfortunately, he'd known her long enough to be absolutely positive of the outcome.

"Hey! Gabe! What the hell? What's wrong?" he heard Liv calling, her voice frantic, "I just passed this spot looking for you and you weren't here…"

"We have to go," he snapped, grabbing her elbow roughly and pulling her towards the car.

"Hey!"

She yanked her arm from his grasp, planting her feet to the concrete. In all the years they'd had together, he'd never done anything like that. Gabriel was always one for words, he always had something to say and could talk himself out of any situation. He enjoyed defeating an opponent with nothing but word play and degradation, getting his way with nothing more than a cunning tongue. As his lip curled into an angry little snarl, she tried to quell her own fire by reasoning that this Gabriel was different. He was jumpy, panicked and afraid, he didn't respond to things like he used to. Something was coming, or was perhaps already here.

"What happened?" she asked, keeping her voice level and her gaze soft.

"We need. To go. Now," he growled as his teeth grit together.

For the first time in her life, she was actually a little afraid of him. He'd done a complete one-eighty in less than twenty minutes with no explanation. He was furious with a reckless look in his eye that she'd never seen before. His unfaltering control was finally failing.

"You need to tell me what's going on," she demanded, her voice trembling.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together in the middle.

The question was loaded, and she knew he was well aware. So his Machiavellian skill was still very much intact. Her answer danced on the tip of her tongue, desperate to say yes but that little voice of reason planting seeds of doubt as it flowered from the hesitation she'd been trying her best to suppress since his return. She did trust him, but she didn't trust whatever emotion he was feeling right now. Maybe it was because it was foreign or unexpected, but this was not a Gabriel she'd ever known. Maybe his faltering grace played a roll in his lack of confidence in himself, but she was tired of this guessing game. He didn't want to discuss it, any of it, and that felt like a lack of trust from him. How was it fair for him to expect her to have unfaltering faith in him, when clearly the feeling wasn't reciprocated?

Her eyes told him everything he needed. No, she did not. Maybe she never had. He blamed himself, he blamed Loki, he blamed Asmodeus, and he blamed her. Why didn't she _see_ everything he'd been through, everything he'd done for her? What he was still doing for her. Why couldn't she see how much he loved her?

"Guess that's a no," he accused, taking a few steps away from her.

"I just want to know what's going on," she stressed, reaching her hand out for him.

"And I just want a lifetime supply of margaritas and ten minutes of peace of quiet, but we don't always get what we want. We have to go, Olivia."

The use of her full name jarred her. She couldn't remember a time he'd ever used it, not in jest or prank or introduction. Blindly she followed, knowing that this would be a losing battle. He knew something she didn't, it was now a matter of prying that information out of him, and that wasn't something she was used to. He'd always shared things with her, everything. She missed him. There was no other way to describe it. He was standing right in front of her, and she missed him wholeheartedly. It was the darkest, deepest form of loneliness she'd ever felt, to stare at someone and still long for them, to still mourn their absence. Though he'd been here for twenty four hours, he'd never really come back. Something was pulling him away, closing him off. In her mind, it was the trauma, the relearning how to live after nine years of confinement. She felt guilty, like she couldn't love him broken and flawed, but that wasn't true. She did. It was the secrets and the walls. She'd comfort him through a nightmare every night for fifty years if it meant she could have him back, but she wanted all of him. Fears and bad times, too. In his, it was killing off the one final threat to the normal life he so desperately wanted, and wanted to give her.

When they reached the car, he opened the door for her as he always did, but to her, she assumed it was probably to make sure she got in without a fight. Her faith in the angel was waning. His anger was beginning to recede, guilt replacing it as he looked at her sullen and lost in the seat beside him. He could see the tears fighting her eyelids, pooling against her bottom lashes. They were caused by him. He couldn't help it, he slid down the seat towards her and pressed his lips against her cheek, letting them linger as his forehead pressed against her temple. Her eyes screwed shut, the tender notion only tightening her chest even further. As her lower lip began to quiver, she bit down on the inside, forcing her teeth to hold it still. She wouldn't give herself away. She would not cry in front of him. It hurt. Realizing that her safe space was no longer safe. Maybe it never was.

He felt dirty, but again he found himself grazing the top of her thoughts, and it was worse then he had expected. She truly didn't trust him, she didn't even trust him enough to cry in his presence. She'd rather bite a hole through her lip than give him any inclination of how she felt. She knew he wasn't right, that he was weak, and hearing her think it made the fact that much more real. He was nothing, not even to the one person who used to look at him like he was the sun and the stars. Maybe she didn't need him anymore, maybe she'd be better off without him. But he wasn't.

"Sweetheart," he sighed, pulling himself closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "I need you… I need you to trust me. Please."

His words were falling on deaf ears and he knew it, but he said them anyway. She remained stoic, keeping her eyes locked on the dashboard in front of her, rattling off every weapon she had in the trunk to keep her mind occupied and distracted. He slid back into the driver's seat, turning the key as he hung his head. He was losing her, she was closing herself off to him, and it pissed him off. He couldn't do one thing right. Not once in his life had he ever been able to hold on to one damn thing that mattered.

The drive back to the hotel was silent. Liv kept her eyes directed on the trees passing by the windows and she reflected back on just how fast things could change. On these same roads just hours earlier, she'd felt like the world was in her hands, that she had everything she could ever want, that life was starting over. She should have known that things didn't work that way for her. She remembered thinking about when the other shoe would fall, hoping it would be years from now, but no, her reprieve from the life she'd made for herself lasted less than six hours. This was her fate. She fell for a monster, and in the end, the monsters always won, this one had just killed her slowly. Gabriel's mind was no clearer. He tried to focus on mentally preparing for Loki, taking on the monster-god was going to be no easy task, but it just kept defaulting back to her. How this could very well be the last time he sat in this car, the last time her heart wasn't filled with contempt when someone said his name. All because he wanted to keep her alive.

When they pulled into the hotel her door was open before he'd even put the car in park. If this was ending now, he wasn't going down without a fight. As the door closed behind him, he followed her closely into the room, wrapping an arm around her middle, pressing his chest to her back, dragging his lips along her neck. He knew what buttons to press to turn her into putty, and he would be trying each and every one of them. She didn't resist, it felt too normal to turn away from. She whimpered under his touch, gripping the arm around her stomach, anchoring him to her. She'd dreamed of his touch for far too long, so her brain couldn't deny it. His mouth left a blazing trail on her skin, his fingers dragging the layer of clothes down her arm, giving him access to her collarbone and shoulder, which he gladly explored and worshipped. Her shaky breaths mixed with the softest of sounds, reassuring him that maybe he still had a chance. His warm, arid scent filled her head, intoxicating and distracting. Maybe right now distracting was what she needed. This was simple, it felt good, it made her forget, everything was okay here like this.

Quickly, he turned her in his arms, his lips crashing down onto her before she even got her footing. He kissed her hard, with teeth and tongue, his hands shoving at anything that kept his fingertips from her skin, and she responded with a hand straight to his hair, tugging his head around as she returned his kisses with ones equally as hungry. It felt good, it made her forget, everything was okay here like this, she repeated again.

"Stop," she whispered as they broke for air, "just wait."

Gabriel's eyes snapped shut, this was it.

"We can't...we can't keep falling into this same rut," she stammered, still clearing the fog from her mind.

"Always worked before," he pointed out, before scraping his teeth along her pulse point.

"Just, talk to me."

There it was. Not a phrase he wanted to hear, not now, not ever. Why was she so infatuated with hearing about nine years of agony, misery, and being denied the relief of death? Why did she think he'd even consider reliving any second of that torture? Of subjecting her to any images of the things Asmodeus had done to him. What was talking going to do? It wasn't going to bring his grace back, or give him the last nine years he'd missed out on. It wouldn't make her love him again, or forgive him. No. All it would bring was pain and a whole lot of misery. It was unnecessary and cruel for her to expect this of him. He pulled himself away from her, running his hand over his mouth as he adjusted his jacket with his other hand. He'd heard her startled gasp as he'd ripped himself away, and now he couldn't bear to even look at her.

"No. It's fine. I didn't come here for therapy hour," he snapped, her heart shattering.

"What…?" she choked.

"Poor broken Gabriel, right? Who wants him? All damaged and powerless. No tricks, no fun. What use is he?"

"That is _not_ -"

"Then what? You think you can fix me? Do you honestly _believe_ that? That we can just sit here, chit chat, maybe braid each other's hair and bam, little Gabe is all better!"

"I want to help you!"

"You can't."

This needed to end, he needed closure. He needed Loki on a stick, a wooden one to be exact. As much as he wished he could wait for his grace to recharge, it wasn't happening. It was back to basics, hand-to-hand combat. Then he'd be back. He'd fix this, they'd be fine. He'd get her out, they'd live in peace and quiet out in the middle of nowhere.

"Don't you dare leave me here like this. Again," she warned, tears falling freely down her cheeks, sobbing gasps ripping from her chest.

"Or what? What're you gonna do to me?"

He felt his anger all the way in his fingertips as Loki's grinning face seared itself behind his eyes. _Come_ _and_ _play_ he mused, his treacherous chuckle echoing through Gabriel's head. That smug, self-loathing bastard better be enjoying his final few days. He envisioned all the ways he could end him. All the different deaths he could inflict upon those three blubbering sons of his. He wanted it to be slow and painful, he wanted to hear them scream and beg. It was then that he remembered the woman behind him, he could hear her sniffling and heavy breathing, feel her eyes drilling into the back of his head. The one who was trying to convince him not to leave. He turned slowly, his eyes almost sinister as they fell upon her.

"You gonna stab me with my own blade?" he hissed, gesturing to the glint of silver visible at the bottom of her duffle bag on the floor, "That won't work. You don't have the juice."

She was speechless. This wasn't Gabriel. If she thought she'd feared him before, it was dwarfed by the terror freezing her in place right now. Her tears fell freely as her entire body shook as he stalked towards her; this was worse than watching him die.

"I've got nothin' left to break, sweetheart. You have no power," he finished, "you're nothing."

"Why?" she gasped, begging silently in her head to anyone listening to save him.

"There's something I have to do."

He bent and ripped his gleaming archangel blade from underneath the pile of what few clothes she owned, scattering them across the floor. Slowly, each finger wrapped around the handle, his head cocking to one side as he watched his reflection in the chrome. He didn't even look like himself, he looked more like… _him_.

"Please," she begged, one last time, trying to reach the man she loved buried deep by whatever rage he was experiencing, "Gabe… baby…"

His eyes flashed as her voice called his name, and he saw her. Blotchy red face, swollen eyes, she was wrecked. What was happening to him? He'd never… he'd never say those things to her. Nothing? He'd said she was nothing. Thoughts ran rampant as he shook his head, muttering incoherent words to himself. This was Loki. He knew. Kali… Something wasn't right.

"You need to go. Find Sam and Dean," he instructed frantically, "I'm gonna fix this."

Every part of him wanted to kiss her one last time, not knowing if he'd ever get the chance again. Loki was in his head. He needed to leave, draw him out, and away from her, but her standing before him so battered and broken, it went against everything he knew. She needed him. Some little piece of her still wanted him, her final words begging him to stay. He felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye as she shook her head at him, silently telling him not to walk out that door, not to leave her again.

"I'm gonna fix this," he repeated, pulling his eyes immediately away before he changed his mind.

Then he vanished. The echo of his wings ricocheting off the walls, every emotion from that night nine years ago pummeling every still-functioning part of her. She wailed as her knees hit the floor. It sounded inhuman, every inch of her numb. She was broken beyond repair. She'd held herself together for nine years, for thirty-five years, but she was done. Every barricade, every wall, every lie she'd ever told herself came crumbling down. Nothing had been worth it. Her life, it meant nothing, she had no one.

"Get up," a sharp female voice sounded from above her, was she really already hallucinating?

It took a moment for her eyes to come into focus, and they fell upon a woman, gorgeous, with dark, perfectly curled hair falling to her shoulders, her umber brown skin glowing in the dim light of the room. Liv had seen her before, but she couldn't quite place her finger on where. Then, it dawned on her.

"You," she growled.

"I said, get up," Kali repeated, bending down and grabbing Liv by her bicep, "you humans, you dwell in your emotions too much."

Liv stood frozen, unsure of how to react. She wanted to attack, Kali showing up moments after Gabriel's exit seemed far too suspicious to brush aside. The goddess worked around the room, picking up the tossed articles of Liv's bag and returning them to their rightful place. The action seemed peculiar.

"What are you doing?" Liv fretted, the evening's events overloading her. A goddess packing her strewn clothing was certainly the icing on the cake.

"You need to leave," Kali replied, shoving the tattered sack into Liv's arms, "Now."

"I'm sorry, but you see what may be fucking with me here, right? Gabriel leaves, then you show up seconds later, and you're both telling me to run, and not telling me _why_ or from _what._ If you both just want to run off together then-"

"He doesn't know I'm here."

That wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. At Kali's sudden appearance, she assumed Gabriel had chosen the obviously far superior woman, and they were off to enjoy immortality together. Kali stared at her, face still stoic, but a softness to her eyes now. There was a strange sense of sympathy in her gaze. She'd known Gabriel for far longer than Liv had, there was obviously still something connecting the two, and she wasn't sure whether to be angry or appreciative. Kali had come here to save her, from what (if anything) she still had no idea, and she knew that Kali couldn't have given two shits about some run of the mill human. Even worse, a hunter. She was here because of whatever relationship she'd had, maybe still did, with the archangel.

"Where is he?" Liv asked, hoping to take advantage of this potential chip in the armor.

"I can't tell you that," Kali responded, "Get in your car. And go."

So she did know, but Liv was smart enough not to push her luck. At this point, she was happy to be walking out of that room alive. She obeyed the instruction, grabbing her keys off the table and following the woman in red out of the room. Before Liv had a chance to speak another word, she was gone. It was then that she remembered a text she'd gotten earlier that day. They had a way to find him.

 **Sam. I'm on my way. Two hours tops**.

As she pulled up to the decrepit building again, her heart sank. The Winchesters. She assumed Dean would be back, causing her lip to tick up in annoyance. He was lucky that he was damn good at what he did. She pulled out her phone and sent another text to the younger of the two, letting him know she'd arrived. Not more than four seconds later, the old metal door opened up and Sam's giant, lumbering figure emerged from the doorway.

"Hey," he greeted, giving her an unexpected hug, "thanks for coming back."

"Uh, yeah, no problem," she answered, feeling guilty as he thought her intentions were purely helpful.

"Dean's out cold, I can get you set up in a room and we'll tackle this thing head on first thing."

"Sure."

Following Sam through the bunker, she felt the sting of the new wounds covering her soul. She'd remembered Gabriel holding her as she sobbed unapologetically into his chest, then the moment when his eyes finally saw her after years of torture, the relief in them. She saw the silhouette of his wings along the upper walls, massive and powerful, and then she heard the screams of Asmodeus as his hold on Gabriel finally ended. Or so she had thought. They walked past room number seven and she stopped; his room. This was where she needed to be. Sam noticed the absence of her footsteps behind him and turned to find her stepping back into the Enochian-etched room.

"Do you wanna.. stay in here?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Yeah," she answered, tracing her fingers along the symbols, wondering if any of them spelled her name, retold any of their stories.

Sam retreated with a silent nod, closing the door as he did. This was all she had left of him. These scribbled black, ancient letters on a wall. He'd taken his black leather jacket she'd worn for years, and his blade she never dared touch from the bottom of her bag. It was like he was wiping himself from her life. Slowly but surely taking every bit she had of him. Her eyes shot to the corner of the room, and she swore she could still almost see him huddled in a ball, catatonic and afraid. He'd needed her then, not like now. Now she was nothing.

Thousands of miles away, in a place meant for only his kind, Gabriel was crouched over an old case, marveling at the four wooden katanas sheathed inside. These were his ticket home. Four swords, four monsters, one completed kill list. He'd shaken Loki off his tail for now, coming into the heavily warded fortress of his brothers. No one knew about this one. As his fingers ran across the wood, her voice drifted through the crypt, no more than a whisper in the dark.

"You should have just stayed dead," she cried, her voice cracking yet filled with unbridled betrayal as her tears poured freely once again.

His chest seized as he heard her, he knew he deserved it.

"Who _does_ this? You told me… You're a fucking liar. You don't _destroy_ the people you love!"

Thankful to be alone with no chance of an intruder, Gabriel slumped to the ground, a sob echoing through the stone walls. He'd done nothing but destroy her since the day he'd met her. He ruined her.

"God damnit Gabriel, you promised…"

His guilt and sorrow churned in his belly like cement, thickening with every passing breath. He'd made a lot of promises he couldn't keep in his life, but this was the one that mattered. This was the one that had eaten him alive every passing second of every day.

"I fucking hate you."

His tears fell freely from his eyes, high pitched wails wheezed from his mouth as he finally broke down. He was cold, and numb. Everything was lost.

"I fucking hate that I still love you. I hate myself for it. I hate, that if you walked into this room right now, I would forgive you. Again. So you could do this to me. Again."

' _No sweetheart, never again. This is almost over. Truly, after this, I am all yours to do whatever you want with. Anything. I deserve the worst. Give me your worst. But please just give me something.'_

"Why did you do this to me?" Her anger had died down, the rage simmering to distress and despair, "Why did you lie?"

Every sentence was a knife straight to his heart.

"Why was it never enough…"

Her tears finally won, blocking out her words as desperate, broken sobs now replaced them. He wished she'd still been angry, he'd rather her be angry than this. He knew if she was angry at least she was still feeling something, that she was fighting. He could practically see her, curled into a ball on the bed. Her head wouldn't be on a pillow, she'd be centered on the mattress, arms around her knees that her forehead would be firmly pressed into. Her body would be trembling and normally, he would have curled up behind her uncaring of how awkward the positioning was. He'd press as much of himself as he could against her, wrapping an arm tightly around her middle, dropping a reassuring kiss to her neck and shoulder when the tears would resurge as she worked through everything in her head.

Then, she'd finally turn and bury her face into him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to keep him there, as if he'd ever once considered leaving. But someone, at some point, had. Softly, he'd whisper to her that everything was going to be all right, that he loved her, that she was safe always, and soon she'd calm enough and drift off to sleep. Gently, he'd shift her to the top of the bed, laying her head on a pillow and covering her with a blanket that she'd subconsciously grab and pull up to cover the lower half of her face. Then he'd resume his place behind her, holding her close again, bunkering down for the night as he listened to her breathing slow down and even out, keeping close watch of her dreams, redirecting them if they strayed into anything upsetting.

The next morning when she would wake, he'd always greet her with a smile and some cheesy line she'd scoff at, but he knew deep down she loved, following up with the warning her face was going to get stuck that way if she kept it up. Her eyes would still be puffy and red, her face still blotchy and he'd kiss her with a little extra gusto, just to make sure she knew it didn't matter.

But now, he was the cause. He was the reason she sat alone, cold, unsure and broken. He'd been just another one who left. So tonight, she'd fall asleep with no one to tell her that they loved her, that she was safe. Tomorrow, she'd wake cramped and sore from the terrible position her exhaustion would take over in. There would be no cheap pick up line, or rolled eyes, or extra kisses. It would be an empty room, a broken heart, and memories of unkept promises. His unkept promises. His.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything hurt. Everything. Her head was pounding as she lifted it off the cold, scratchy blanket, and every muscle in her body contracted as she tried to stretch out of the ball she'd fallen asleep in. All of this was just a stark reminder of the difference twenty four hours could make. There were no breezy windows, billowing gauzy curtains or warm hands running along her skin here. It was cold, industrial desolation. The emptiness in her chest felt like it was eating her from the inside out, darkness slowly creeping through her veins set out to cover every inch of her in despair. She didn't want to fight it. Maybe she couldn't, maybe it was better this way. Surrender just seemed easier.

' _I'm_ _gonna fix this'_ echoed in her head as she tried to move, her aching limbs weak as she pushed herself to sitting, his voice inciting anger, betrayal and sorrow all at once. He was just as delusional as she was if he thought for even a second there was a fighting chance. She'd given herself over to him _again_ and he'd reduced her to nothing in less than two days. At least the first time around he'd given her years, but days? Yet here she was, crying over her own masochism, sitting in the Winchesters bunker with hope that they had a method of finding him. She didn't know what she wanted, what she expected, if they succeeded. Why did she even come here? Let him go off back to Casa Erotica and whatever other debauchery she obviously was hindering him from enjoying, clearly she was shoving herself back into his life and he didn't want her there. It was pity. That's what the last day had been. A last hurrah because she'd just shown back up and forced herself back into whatever relationship they'd had almost a decade ago. Things change. People change, even if she didn't. After nine years of hell, who would want to shack back up with an emotionally unavailable, thirty something year old hunter when he could be off having the time of his life. So, closure. That's why she was here. She needed to find him, get closure, and move on with her life, for good this time.

The conclusion didn't ease the aching in her heart, if anything it made it worse. The next time she saw him would be the last time. It was a different feeling than thinking he was dead. This was knowing he was still out there, calling someone else her pet names, holding them like he held her. It was sickening, but it was reality.

Sam had the answers, she needed to find him and get it all over with. Wandering back out into the hall and to the library, her feet were heavy. Nothing was going to make this any easier. This was why they always said to never get attached, it was reckless and stupid. An adventure destined for failure, and she'd felt it from the start. Those promises and nights together, it was all just a lie, and she'd fallen head over heels for them.

Anticipating Sam, she was disappointed when Dean was the only inhabitant of the room, sitting at the table with his feet propped on the chair beside him, a mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked the same, yet different. Age had certainly been kind to him, but the jaded look in his eyes had only grown. He looked tired, downtrodden, like he'd given up a long time ago but was still going through the motions. She knew the feeling.

"Gotta be kidding me," he groaned as he finally spotted her in the entryway, "where did you come from?"

"Where's Sam?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, really not in the mood for a surly, sour attitude from the elder Winchester.

"Out."

"I'm here for Gabriel."

Saying his name stung, the ever present reminder of what she'd lost.

"Gabriel? He's not here. Long gone actually. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to mess with someone with daddy issues?" he seethed, throwing his phone down onto the table, his eyes hard and unforgiving.

She loathed him, "Guess that's why you never successfully got in my pants then, huh?"

That earned her an angry, scoffing laugh. He rose from his seat and stalked towards her, he had definitely changed. He was harsher, there was nothing casual about him anymore. The Dean she'd known was a sarcastic, witty asshole, but this man coming towards her now was deadly.

"What do you want? Your boyfriend bailed," he spat. He felt no pity for her, not that she had expected any.

"I'm aware. I'm here to help you find him," she retorted, holding her ground as he neared.

"Hey!" the younger of the two greeted as the metal door of the bunker slammed, still clad in his morning run gear, "feel ok?"

"I'm fine."

She shifted as she felt Dean's gaze searing through her, like he was inspecting her. It made her uneasy, she was already vulnerable and having one of the most dangerous men on the planet eyeing her down wasn't helping in any way.

"Well, from the looks of it, Liv here hasn't been alone these past few days. He was with you, wasn't he?" Dean accused, pulling the collar of her shirt over to reveal the red marks left behind from her momentary bubble of bliss, "and now _you_ lost him and you need _our_ help to find him! Unbelievable."

"I wasn't bringing him to you, Dean. Everyone who comes within five feet of you dies! Just because I haven't seen you, doesn't mean I haven't heard about all the things you've done. All the people you've lost," her words dripped with venom as his lips curled into a snarl, Sam's arm shooting out to keep him from advancing.

"So what if we find him. You just gonna take him and run?" Sam inquired, his lips hardening into a thin line.

Her gaze moved to Sam, eyes angry, "Apocaland is your problem. But I'll get you the grace you need for your spell," she began, unsure if that promise was empty, she had no effect on the angel anymore, "and if you can convince him to go with you then fine, but I won't have any part in sending him to his death again."

"Why didn't you tell us he was with you?" Dean growled, teeth clenched.

Her eyes slid to him, his audacity and controlling nature only stoking the fire growing in her belly, "Why would I? What were you gonna do, huh? He's a fucking archangel."

"I know what he is. He's a _dick._ "

"I swear to fucking God…"

"Oh is that what you're calling him now?"

With a bellowing scream, she lunged at him, Sam catching her just as her fingertips grazed the collar of his brother's worn out flannel. Between Gabriel's abandonment and Dean's lack of human emotion other than anger, her control had snapped. She was on autopilot now, her subconscious moving to take out any threat that came her way. She had relinquished everything over to that protective system rooted deep down in her psyche, everything had become too much and she was done.

"Yeah good ol' Olivia! Only around when it's convenient for her! When there's something in it that she wants. But the second anyone but that winged pricks needs her, poof! She's gone. Well, newsflash honey, we don't need you now just like we didn't need you at any other point since you fell off the face of the damn planet! And when I find that useless little-"

She was fighting Sam with every ounce of strength she could muster, "Oh and what about you, Dean Winchester!? Tell me I'm wrong when I say the _only_ reason you're pissed is because you need him to push your own agenda! All you've ever done is _use him_ when you break the fucking world! He isn't a toy!"

"He sure as hell used me like one!"

"Enough!" Sam roared, jolting the pair of hunters out of their argument, their attention snapping to him, "What is with you two?"

"Fuck you," Liv spat, pushing herself away from Sam's restraining grip.

"Not if you paid me," Dean sneered in response.

A heavy silence fell over the trio, the anger in the air still palpable as Sam tried to find the words to use to not set either of them off again. He'd known they weren't each other's biggest fan but he never could have imagine this level of hatred, and for what he had no idea, but if they were going to work together in any facet this needed to be smoothed over, and fast.

"What happened?" Sam finally asked, keeping his tone soft.

"She left," Dean replied first, his voice thick with betrayal.

"You got Gabriel killed," she defended, fighting the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Except I didn't! Obviously! The asshole is still running from any and every form of responsibility. You included."

Those words hit home. They stabbed through her ribs to her heart like a blunt knife, slow and excruciating. What hurt the worst was that he was right. It was inarguable, Gabriel had run, unwilling to face the consequences of his actions just like he had for thousands of years before her. It made her feel stupid, and naïve, to ever have felt like he would have changed just for her. It was the same dance to the same song for him and she was the one left reduced to rubble on the ground in his wake.

"Dean…" Sam scolded softly, watching the pain transform her face.

"Yeah well, it's what she gets. She brought it on herself," Dean murmured, his voice softer and laced with a hint of regret that surprised her.

"Dean, I'm sorry," she whispered, voice thick as her tears threatened to spill over, "I'm sorry I didn't help you. But you've never done a damn thing for me. Lucifer was _your_ problem, and I still lost everything."

Dean's eyes softened as he looked at her, his shoulders relaxing from their contracted position, "No. You didn't lose everything. You lost him."

"He's all I have."

As that realization sunk in, the tears finally started to fall. Besides that old car parked out front, she really truly had nothing. No friends, no family, no legacy. When she died no one would remember her, no one would mourn her. There would be no flowers on her grave. Hell, there wouldn't be a grave at all, she'd be lucky if someone found her with enough to time to even burn her on the pyre. All she'd ever had was him, even if it was only for a short while.

"You have us too," Dean assured softly, pulling her into a very unexpected one armed hug, "as much as I hate to admit it, it feels good to know you're still alive and fighting."

Frozen by the sudden affection from a man she had been screaming at mere seconds before, her breathing became labored. Dean was all muscle, tall and lean, and he smelled like whiskey and leather. The stark opposite to the angel usually holding her, and for that she was thankful.

"Um, thanks," she mumbled, letting her head rest against his chest. The contact felt too nice to worry about personas and walls; she gave herself the moment to be weak.

"Where did he go?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she admitted, "we were out, everything was fine. Then he disappeared and when he showed back up he was… out of his mind."

"How so?"

"He was panicked, frantic, he wasn't himself. Even more so than he already was. The last thing he said was 'I'm gonna fix this'. You said you had a way to find him, let's get it over with."

"Well, we're uh, we're still working on that," Sam confessed, causing her to pull away from Dean's comfortable embrace and stare at him hard.

"What?" she snapped, "You told me you had a way."

"We do. We just, need the final piece. A witch. More specifically, Rowena."

"Should I know her?"

"Better that you don't," Dean interjected, "We're on our way to go find her. She's killing reapers and we don't know why, and while we're there, we're gonna see if we can get her here to help us."

"Really? Seriously? You don't know why she's killing reapers? She's a witch, they do stupid shit for no other reason than they're fucking stupid," Liv retorted, anger growing that they'd called her here with no actual plan.

"She's the most powerful witch out there, she's helped us many times before. If anyone can find Gabriel, it's her."

"Great, well I'll be here when you come back with her then. I'm not really in the mood to be hexed, or cursed or any of the above."

The two men watched as she walked away, neither attempting to argue or change her mind. They knew something was very wrong. It had been nine years, but the woman's reparation had held strong, grown if anything. Sam had watched her take down a demon laughing just two days prior, but Gabriel's hold on her was strong. He didn't know what happened, but he did know that the chances of her telling him any of if were slim to none. After seeing them together, there was no doubt there had been love there at some point, that it was still very much alive. If Gabriel had left her, there was a reason, and he intended to find it.

Crossword puzzles had always been her go-to unwind activity. Maybe because of her dad, they'd do one every weekend together up until the day he died. Maybe because of Gabriel, they had always been their go to rainy day activity. Yet now as she stared at the white and black boxes on her phone screen, it brought nothing but painful nostalgia, reminding her of all the things that were and could have been.

"Hey, we're heading out," Sam called from the doorway, "Make yourself at home. Cas should be here soon."

"Thanks," she mumbled, still irritated at him for calling her here prematurely.

"We'll get him back."

"Yeah. That's the thing though. I don't know if I want him to come back."

The words sounded foreign as they left her lips. She didn't recognize her own voice, she'd never say that. Her stomach churned at the sentiment of hating him, it felt like it went against every fiber of her being to wish him away.

"Wanna talk about it?" Sam asked, ready to drop the task at hand and give her his undivided attention.

"I think you have more pressing matters at hand," she replied, "I need to find him. I need to finish this."

Two days later Castiel returned to the bunker. She'd been driving herself mad with boredom, not even the massive collection of books in the library was enough to keep her occupied. Sitting alone in the windowless fortress had proved to be far more detrimental than she thought it could, but it beat going out and doing something reckless. It would be a lie to say the thought hadn't come to mind. She'd tried everything she could think of to clear her mind of Gabriel, the Winchesters, this witch they were bringing home, everything. Nothing was working. Gabriel still haunted her dreams at night, but they weren't nightmares of his anger or his death. They were of his hands roaming her skin, his lips trailing behind them as those golden eyes stared at her full of reverence and love. It was waking up to his arm draped across her waist and his hands softly pinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her as his own. She would always be his. No matter what happened, she would belong to him, wholly and implicitly.

"Olivia, hello," Castiel greeted gently, he must have gotten a debriefing from the boys, "Dean said you'd be here."

"Hey Cas," she greeted flatly. Definitely had gotten a debriefing.

"I found a case, just a few hours from here, if you wanted to get out. Looks like vampires."

Castiel, always the giver, never the taker; he definitely didn't learn that from his big brother… The thought of hunting with Cas gave her a little spark of life, however. It was a chance to blow off some steam and sit with quite possibly the only other person on the planet who had any potential to make her feel better.

"Did you find that just to get me out of the house?" she asked fondly, her lips ticking upwards into a small smile.

"Sam did say you were a little… depressed," the angel confessed, "Dean always wants to hunt when he's wallowing so…"

"Sure Cas, let's go kill some vamps."

Being back behind the wheel of her car felt good, Cas in the passenger seat making it even a little better. The angel had a calming presence about him, always so even-keeled and gentle. It was hard to imagine him as a warrior at any point, he'd always just be… Cas, the angel who took everything far too literally and could not tell a lie.

"So… Gabriel," Castiel began.

"I don't wanna talk about him," Liv cut off immediately, hoping this little field trip would push him from her mind even just a little bit.

"Did he return to you?"

"Yes."

"I thought he would."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she turned back to him, "Why?"

"Gabriel always was one who ran to familiarity," he replied, his words helping her draw another conclusion.

So that was why he showed back up. He didn't love her, it had nothing to do with wanting to be with her, she was just _familiar._ An easy helping hand in the world as he readjusted, clearly it hadn't taken him very long. She was such a fool, no wonder she was so easy to play.

"Figures," she mumbled, turning her eyes back to the road.

"What?" Cas asked in that endearing, confused tone he had.

"I knew there was some bullshit, selfish reason he came back."

"I don't understand."

"Like you said, familiarity."

"Yes. You are his family. His safe space. So it makes sense he would gravitate to you after all he's been through."

His response was unexpected and it pushed the breath from her lungs as it settled. Family. Safe space. Gravitate. Those were heavy words. Those were words that came into her mind when she thought about him, but he didn't feel that way. He couldn't. He had a family, a very powerful one, and he didn't need a safe space, he was an archangel. Cas was just saying things to make her feel better, he had to be.

"He loves you," Castiel continued, a small, knowing smile settling on his lips.

"No, he doesn't," she stated matter-of-factly. She wouldn't let Cas change her mind, she'd been fighting herself for days now.

"Why would you say that?"

"According to him, I'm nothing."

"He wouldn't say that."

"Well he did, Cas! What do you know anyway?"

"When Gabriel was still… catatonic, and I was trying to jolt his memory, all he was thinking about was you. You pulled him from that hole. He woke up, for you."

Cas' stare was intense as he spoke the words and it felt like her heart stopped dead in her chest. He was wrong. He had to be, or maybe she just wanted him to be. This was all easier if Gabriel hated her, but if he didn't it brought a whole new depth of difficulty. If he still loved her, she wouldn't be able to walk away, she'd let him hurt her over and over again until she finally dropped dead. How was she ever supposed to move on when the world just kept shoving him back into her heart? Any hope of living a life without him was about to be lost.

"Well, he obviously has moved on," she corrected, holding on to the darkness shrouding her thoughts.

"We both know that's not true," he protested, "I don't know why you would think that."

This was nothing but irritating at this point. He hadn't been there, he hadn't heard what was said, felt that betrayal, but explaining to him was just going to rehash everything she'd been suppressing the last two days. He knew what broken, desperate Gabriel had wanted, not what the rejuvenated, cunning Trickster did. Things had changed.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Castiel's heart heavy from the sadness he could feel emanating from the poor woman at his side, she'd been through so much, the world had never been kind to her. _Brother, what have you done?_

As usual, the vampires were cozied up in a massive industrial building. Why couldn't they pick a nicer spot every now and again? Her trunk carried every weapon they would need, machetes, dead man's blood and knives, for backup. Castiel had estimated five being nested up in there, which left four for her and one for him if she got her way. Whacking the heads off of some monsters seemed like just the therapy she needed.

"It'll probably be better if we split up," she instructed, sheathing her machete against her leg, "you go around back and I'll head in the front."

Castiel just nodded, taking the lead as he usually did, grabbing the weapons from her outstretched hand and taking off towards the back of the building. He didn't know why, but he had a sinking feeling about the situation, like something was off before they'd even begun. As he rounded the corner he was met immediately with a blow to the head, rendering him unconscious.

This building was disgusting, not that she expected anything different, but this place was particularly bad. The smell, the puddles of random dark muck on the floors, monsters had no class or standards, even the ones that posed as humans. It was also eerily silent. There were supposed to be five vamps in there and yet there was no sound beyond the dripping of the leaky pipes. No victims screaming or raucous celebrations, something was off. She needed to find Cas, fast, before this all went south. Maybe it was because she was distracted, or exhausted and lacking any fight, but a pair of arms shot out from behind her, wrapping around her middle. With no more than a shocked whimper of surrender, she felt the fangs piercing into her neck, the world going dark as the blood drained from her body.

She was woozy, her head felt like it was floating and her body trembled from the cold. Both arms were tied behind her back, the rope burning her skin as she felt her fingers tingling from lack of blood flow.

"The hell?" she whimpered, her legs splayed out in front of her.

"Good morning sunshine," a looming figure taunted from the window, swinging her machete in his hand, "glad you're awake. I like my meals still screaming. Especially hunters."

As he began advancing towards her she knew her life was about to end. Cas was nowhere to be found, and this thing wasn't going to let her stay alive much longer. She needed help and she needed it now or that mourn-less funeral would be coming faster than even she intended it to.

"Cas," she called weakly as the vampire's face came into view, "Castiel, god damnit."

The monster kneeled in front of her, his smile sinister. She wanted to cry. This was the funny thing about dying, you think you won't care, but when it's staring you in the face it's a whole different story. Bound and defenseless, she stared at the face in front of her. This would be the last thing she saw, her blood dried around his mouth, cold and alone. Just as she had suspected. A hand knotted into her hair, ripping her head to the side, tearing what scabs had attempted to form on her wound open again. She yelped, trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of the scream she knew he desired. As his teeth sunk back into her flesh with a growl, her tears began to fall.

"Gabriel…. Help me… please…" she sobbed as the world began to collapse in on itself, wishing she could see him one last time, that his golden eyes would be the last sight her eyes would see.

The time was now. He had him cornered, alone and unsuspecting. It had been a miracle he'd made his way here and stalked down the first of Loki's sons without so much as a whiff of being discovered. Low grace was handy for something, he thought. Gabriel watched as the monster-god drank down his vodka like it was water.

"Good, get yourself nice and drunk, easier to take your ass out you lumbering buffoon," Gabriel muttered to himself, his own whiskey almost drained.

Then he heard it. _Her._ She was dying. His wings couldn't carry him fast enough as he abandoned his mission, his grace draining as they carried him to her. When he landed, fear surged through him. She was out cold, a vampire still sucking every last drop of life from her body. She was pale and bloody, limbs and head hanging limply on her neck. It was the most terrifying thing he'd ever laid his eyes on.

"Hey!" he screamed, "Didn't your mommy ever tell you it's not nice to take other people's things?"

The vampire unlatched from her throat, the sight of her blood pouring from her body churning his stomach. He couldn't tell if she was still alive. He tried to watch her chest, looking for any signs of it rising and falling, but he was too far away.

"That, Mr. Cullen, is mine, and I'm gonna be needing it back now," Gabriel continued his taunt, if she was dead he was taking the bastard down anyway, "So we can do it the easy way, the quick way, or the have a little fun way. Your choice."

"I like fun," the vamp sneered, pulling his knife from the back of his waistband.

"Swell."

Gabriel let his blade fall from his sleeve, spinning his wrist as he brought it up to fighting position. He couldn't wait to rip this thing to pieces,it would be a nice warm up to the battles he had coming. With another passing glance at Liv, he still saw no indication of life. His heart was beginning to pound, this wasn't how this was supposed to end.

"That's it?" the vampire laughed, making Gabriel smirk as he realized this thing had no idea what he was up against.

"Ah, you just wait, there's a lot more up my sleeve than this pretty little thing. You'll be begging for it before you know it, guaranteed. Still enough time to take the quick way out, last chance," Gabriel implored, keeping his eyes straight on his opponent.

"Nah, I like my odds."

"I like it when they're cocky. Feeds my ego. So are we gonna do this Lestat or are you just gonna sit there and flirt with me all night?"

With a snarl the vampire ran towards the angel, who rolled his eyes as he stood his ground, stepping out of the way just in the knick of time and planting his hand on the back of his head. In one swift movement he slammed the man into the ground, the concrete smashing under the impact, landing on one knee beside him.

"You know, sometimes I miss this," Gabriel quipped, lifting the creature by the back of his head as he stood back up.

Tiny shards of concrete were stuck in multiple open wounds on the monster's face, his eyes woozy as blood poured from it's nose and mouth. Gabriel ticked his head to the side, inspecting his handiwork.

"Eeesssh, that looks like it hurts," he teased, "Can't say I didn't give you the option."

"What… are you," the vampire sputtered, blood spraying from his mouth.

"Well, that's a question you probably should have asked before, isn't it?"

His eyes blazed blue as his grip tightened on the vampire's skull, he could feel it cracking beneath his fingertips.

"Angel," he choked, the error of his thinking settling in.

"Bingo. So, what'daya think? Wanna see my shiny toy all up close and personal yet?" Gabriel inquired, waving his blade in the man's face.

"She tasted so good. But what was better, was feeling the life drain from her body. Slowly, as she held back her screams."

Rage bubbled from deep inside him, unbridled and pure. Before it could utter another word he plunged his blade straight through it's throat with a guttural scream, ripping it straight through the top of it's head. His breath was ragged as he tried to let the anger subside, his body still shaking from the final push his grace had given him. He whipped around to the one sight he'd never wished to see. She hadn't moved. Her body was still limp, being held up solely by her tied awkward positioning. His chest knotted, he didn't want to know the answer. If she was dead, he'd never forgive himself, what would he do? He couldn't just keep on living. Their last moments together replayed in his head. She died thinking he thought she was nothing. That he hated her. However, what if she was alive?

He ran to her, tearing the ropes binding her hands and letting her body fall slack against his and a sob ripped from his throat. His arms came around her tightly, she was cold, but not rigid, that was a good sign. He felt panicked. His grace was too low to heal her; he was helpless. If she was still alive, he wasn't going to be able to save her anyway. No matter what happened she was going to die here, he was too late. He'd left, this was his fault. Tears dripped from his cheek into her hair as he clutched her lifeless body close to his chest, it wasn't to going to end this way. It couldn't. He was so close to being done.

"Sweetheart, hey, you're ok," he begged, reaching his fingers around to the whole side of her throat, "you're ok."

He held his fingers to her artery. Nothing. Nothing. _Thud._ He cried in relief, she was still here. She was weak, but not gone yet. _Yet._ Tears still fell freely, and the ache in his heart continued throbbing. So this was what it was like. This was how she'd felt all those years ago. Abandoned, alone, terrified, utterly hopeless. It was like watching a piece of himself die. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her skin clammy and cold, letting them linger as he shifted her body to lay in his lap.

"Wake up, baby," he wept, pushing what little grace he could muster into her, but it wasn't enough, he had nothing, "I'm here. You're gonna be okay. I promise… Don't die on me."

Footsteps sounded from behind him as he brushed her hair from her eyes and he turned, holding his blade in his hand, ready to fight. Relief washed through him as he saw his brother rounding the corner, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth but otherwise unharmed. That relief was quickly replaced with anger and blame. He'd put her into this situation, he'd let her get captured, let that _thing_ feed on her.

"What were you thinking?!" Gabriel screamed at Castiel, "Get over here and heal her! Now!"

"Gabriel? What.. what happened?" Cas asked, running to the pair and dropping to his knees beside them.

"That's a question I should be asking you!"

"She.. I don't know. I was knocked unconscious, she must have…"

"Yeah. She must have. Lay your hands on, we don't have time."

Gabriel watched on as his little brother did what he should have been able to. The wounds on her neck vanished, leaving behind the smooth skin that had plagued his thoughts since he'd left. Her cheeks and lips regained their rosy pink glow, and the purple under her eyes dissipated. She stayed unconscious, still protectively cradled by him, her warmth finally soaking in through his fingertips. She was alive, and she wouldn't know he was ever here. It would be better that way. He was ineffective and useless, he had nothing to offer her. Nothing to give.

"Gabriel, what is happening? What have you done?" Cas asked as his hands came away from her.

"I'm fixing it," Gabriel responded, teeth gritted together, "Don't tell her I was here."

"Why? She'll want to know. It will help-"

"I said, don't tell her I was here."

"She needs you. Does that mean nothing?"

"It _means_ everything, but it _changes_ nothing. You tell her you found her, you saved her, understand?"

Gabriel's eyes were hard and unwavering, and so Castiel was forced to agree. Even on low power, getting on his brother's bad side was never a good idea. The two angels walked side by side as they returned to her car out front. Just the sight of it brought a rush of memories back into Gabriel's mind. He was losing everything. Hope, power, faith, her. She thought he hated her. She wished he'd stayed dead, that she didn't love him. As he lowered her body into the backseat, placing her gently on the worn leather, he remembered the way she'd squirm beneath him on that old seat, whispering his name, her fingers tangled in his hair. This was where he belonged. He desperately wanted to slide in beside her, lay her head in his lap and comb his fingers over her blood-matted waves as they drove. He wanted to see her to safety, but he couldn't. He needed to get back before he lost his trail, before his willpower broke.

"I'll take care of her," Castiel promised from beside him, and all Gabriel could do was silently nod, tears pouring from his eyes.

Before he changed his mind, he flew back to his motel room in Texas, his grace drained to the point of exhaustion. The only energy he could muster was used to collapse on the bed, leaving the right side empty, as he always did. That was her spot. He could practically feel her there, nuzzled up behind him, stealing his warmth as she drifted off to sleep, but she wasn't. He was alone, and a piece of him thought that maybe from now on, he always would be.


	8. Chapter 8

' _Don't_ _die_ _on_ _me_.

That voice, soft as velvet, sweet as honey, but so filled with despair. Who was it talking to? Where was she?

The world was vibrating, her head was throbbing, a familiar hum droned on in the background, and that _voice_ echoed through her head. She could practically feel gentle fingertips raking through her hair, lips pressing into her forehead, ragged breaths and arms encircling her, but there was no one. The world rumbled on, every sensation she tried to focus on quickly fading into the background. She tried to escape, this couldn't be real, but how do you run from what's inside your head?

' _Wake_ _up_ , _baby_.'

Her eyes shot open, shocked and afraid. It was too dark, the world was just indistinguishable masses of grays and black. Where was the reaper? Wasn't someone supposed to be here to guide her along to whatever came next? Is that who was talking to her? No, that voice was familiar. That voice sounded like…

"Olivia?" a gravelly male asked from the blackness, that wasn't the same one she'd been hearing, that was… Cas.

"Cas?" she croaked, her throat sore and dry, that one syllable causing her to grimace in discomfort.

"Yes. It's me. Are you okay?"

"Aren't I dead?"

"No. You're not dead."

Not dead. Those words should have brought on a wave of relief, but that wasn't what she was feeling. It was… indifference. The emptiness came crashing back as her eyes adjusted, she was in the back of her car. The darkness began to slowly creep in from the night, filtering through her veins like ink. She felt like nothing more than a ghost with a beating heart. She knew she'd been dying, and she'd been afraid at the time, that thing was bleeding her dry and it wasn't going to let up, but she couldn't remember a thing. After calling for Gabriel the world had gone black, and she was certain that was it. Had he come?

"How? Did…" she started, not wanting to even utter his name.

"I… I came in just in time. Saved you… from the vampire. I killed it and healed you," Castiel responded, his words almost sounded rehearsed.

So he hadn't. Her prayer had fallen on deaf, apathetic ears. Of course he didn't come, why would he? The hardest thing to swallow about betrayal was that it never came from your enemies. He was busy, had better things to do than save some random little human. At least it brought her one step closer to closure. If he was okay just letting her die in some warehouse building at the hands of a vampire, he truly was done. She sighed, first day of a new life… again. Why was it so impossible to let go of the thing she never had? She'd never had him, he'd always had one foot out the backdoor.

Cas could feel her emotions ping-ponging from the backseat. He knew soon enough the damage would be irreparable for Gabriel, and possibly for her as well. He feared for their next meeting, knowing it would break them both beyond what either of them were anticipating. There was an extraordinary amount of love between the two of them, but a seemingly unsurpassable mountain of regret and mistakes. He knew what he saw in his brother's mind, it was unwavering and absolute, he just had a poor way of conveying it. He was, of course, first and foremost, a soldier. He carried out his purposes in the form of tasks. Even though Gabriel was the most humanized of all the angels, having spent eons of time with them on the Earth, deep down, that wiring was still at his base. While he thought completing whatever mission he was on now was righteous, humans didn't think the way angels did, and as much as his absence was based on good intentions, she would never see it that way.

"You're going to be okay," Castiel ensured, not only to her current physical state, but the mental turmoil she faced as well, "everything will make sense soon."

They reached the bunker, having traveled the rest of the way in silence. Liv had yet to move from her lying position on the back seat. Physically, she felt fine, but deep down she was just defeated. Cas stood outside the car, waiting for her to emerge and when she didn't, he opened the door and crouched down to level himself to her. She needed to know the truth, but his brother's wrath was fear-inducing. Castiel knew that while Gabriel was the most patient and forgiving of the four, it only meant for a more virulent anger when betrayed. Gabriel was also the most _creative_ of the bunch.

"Liv…" he began, averting his eyes as he decided how to proceed, "Gabriel… he.."

"Don't," she spat, lifting her head to look at him.

"He loves you. Whatever happens next, I think you need to know that."

"You need to stop saying that to me."

"Well I won't lie to you."

"Why do you care so much?"

The words came out much harsher than she had intended them to. Castiel's concern for her wasn't deserving of resentment or malice, especially not when he was probably the last standing being on Earth who did, but this weight was becoming unbearable. It needed to be done, one way or the other, she needed to be free. From Gabriel, from her own thoughts, from monsters and hunting and nightmares. At this point, she didn't care how she got there, just that she did. The fight had been long, and it was high time she admitted she'd lost and move on to the next one.

"What am I doing, Cas?" she asked, "seriously.. what am I doing?"

Cas looked at her with sympathetic eyes, "What we all are. Fighting for what we believe in. Who we believe in."

"I don't know what I believe anymore."

"Help us find Jack and Mary. Help me."

Sadly, she smiled at him, sitting up enough to place a hand on his cheek. She nodded, pursing her lips in sincerity. Find Gabriel, find Jack and Mary, and it would be over, or she'd die trying. Cas held his hand out, which she took and he guided her from the car ensuring she was steady on her feet. She could believe in him, and she'd fight for him too. He was her oldest friend, runaways excluded. He'd never let her down before, and he deserved a friend like she'd found in him.

"Cas?" she asked, voice shaking, "what would you do, in my shoes?"

Blue eyes bore into hers, "Well, I've always been one to believe that intentions are well meaning. Especially by the people we love. Like Dean, when I lost my grace."

She remembered that. He'd called her and she'd dropped her case, driving fourteen hours straight to find him soaking wet on the side of the road. She'd wanted to storm what she now knew was the bunker and throttle that idiot until she'd shaken some sense into him, but Castiel had insisted it was okay. That Dean was doing the right thing. At the time she thought he was just trying to convince himself, but now she knew he had actually believed it, deep down in his heart he had trusted Dean's instincts and intuition. She never did get the whole story on that situation, how it had been resolved, but she had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't as well-intended as Castiel had made it out to be.

"Is that what you think is happening?" she pressed further.

"Yes," he responded quickly, not even having to put a thought into his answer, "he's doing what he thinks is right."

"What is that, exactly?"

"I wish I knew."

As he spoke, she couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that Castiel had seen Gabriel sometime since his disappearance. The way he spoke, it as if he knew at least some of the truth but would or could not say it. His certainty in Gabriel's love for her was the main indicator. She wanted to believe him but Gabriel's final words to her just didn't back up Castiel's claims. That wasn't the way someone with good intentions left, even Dean had been kinder when placed in a similar situation. Sooner than later she'd be face to face with him once again, and her questions would be answered. All of them.

Sam and Dean returned a few days later, making it ten days since she'd arrived at the bunker. Time had moved quickly, a routine being somewhat settled. She'd even learned how to cook thanks to the internet and an equally clueless angel muddling through the kitchen with her. Most nights the experiments had ended up in the trash and a bowl of cereal eaten it's place, but she'd had a few successes. It was undeniable that a steady place to crash, a familiar face to walk out of her room to and that sense of safety the warded bunker brought was just the breath of fresh air she'd needed. Things seemed clearer, objectives had been decided, when she saw Gabriel again she knew what had to be done. She'd replayed the scenario in her head a hundred times, trying to predict each and every curve ball that could be thrown her way. She was readiy. When the Winchesters came trodding down those metal steps, a tiny red-headed woman in tow, she was almost relieved.

"Hey Liv, this is Rowena," Sam introduced the newcomer as Liv's eyes narrowed in distrust.

"Well, aren't you a peach?" the witch purred in a heavy Scottish accent, her eyes traveling the length of Liv's body.

"Can you do it? Can you find Gabriel?" Liv asked, trying not to let her desperation be heard, especially by a witch.

"'Course I can! I just need a few little things, nothing huge really, and a day or two. Then we'll go get your wee angel and we can all get on our way."

"What do you need?"

"Well most things I have. All but one…"

Liv's eyes hardened as she crossed her arms over her chest, this was already taking too long. That, added in with the way this little woman eyed her like she wanted to eat her, the whole situation already had her feeling slimy.

"What is the one thing?" Liv asked, her annoyance clear as day.

"Essence of the angel," Rowena answered nonchalantly, turning her eyes away as she started pulling various bowls and bottles from her bag.

"We don't have any of his grace left, it's all gone," Dean interjected from the corner, his own impatience evident.

"Ah, that's where she comes in."

"Me?" Liv snapped, "I don't have anything."

"Of course you do. I'm sure he's healed you with his grace once or twice, no? And am I wrong to say he's been… well… inside you at some point or other?"

The disgusted groans from the other three people in the room echoed off the giant stone walls. That was far more than anyone needed to know, let alone hear. Especially the Winchesters.

"Things like him leave a mark and I highly doubt the two of you were just running around holding hands, especially with that tight little bottom," Rowena flirted, her eyes fluttering in Liv's direction.

"And how do you get this essence from me?" Liv groaned, "A hex-laced papsmear?"

"Well, I could. I wouldn't mind one itty bit. Blood should work too. Whichever way you prefer dear, and might I add, I have a very gentle touch."

As Rowena wiggled her fingers in Liv's direction, the hunter couldn't find her knife fast enough. However, since she'd been making herself at home for the past week, at the present moment she didn't have it on her person. So instead of one swift and graceful pull from the ankle of her boot, it turned into a fumbling, searching disaster with one witch looking on quite satisfied and smug along with two towering men snickering to themselves in the background. She straightened herself up, trying to play it off and failing miserably, feeling the burn of embarrassment on her cheek.

"My knife is in my room, but when you're ready I will go and get it and bleed into your fucking bowl," she grumbled as her eyes passed over Sam biting his lower lip as he held in his laughter.

Rowena smirked at her, "If you insist."

"Just… hurry up."

Two days later the car was packed and the destination was loaded. Colorado. He was in Colorado. All her mental preparations seemed to be disintegrating in her head as the time drew closer. She loved him too much. She hated him, too, but the most difficult factor to weigh in was which did she want him to feel? It was easier if he hated her. It would be a cleaner cut, nothing to cling to, nothing to look back and over-analyze. If he didn't, could she still walk away?

"Ready?" Sam asked, slamming the trunk closed after checking everything was there one last time, "Cas is gonna head to Texas, since the spell had a chance of him being there. We'll find him."

Words evaded her. The drive was practically silent. Sam and Dean had tried to make light conversation, but she was far too wrapped up in her own thoughts. The anticipation had her heart hammering, what would he be doing? What had pulled him away so abruptly? Or who? Her scenarios started replaying, each going substantially different than she'd imagined days ago. These all ended in heartbreak and tears. What was in Colorado?

They drove past the state welcome sign while the sun was still out, hitting Central City just six hours after departing the bunker. In true hunter fashion, they found a cheap motel to set up camp in, the three deciding that just sharing a room would be easiest. Castiel had called Dean, checking in as Sam had started to unpack.

"Yeah, No, we just got in. Mhmm…. What are you doing? Don't unpack," Dean grumbled, switching from his phone to his brother.

"Dude, we could be here for days," Sam answered, he also knew finding Gabriel would be no easy task.

"No. No. Hey, hell no…. Hey.. no not you. That's… Just call us when you get to Amarillo, all right… " Dean hung up his phone, focusing again on Sam, "All right look, Rowena's spell said that Gabriel would be here."

"Yeah here or in Texas."

"So Cas is gonna hit up the lone star state in a few hours and we'll check this place out. Liv, any ideas what would bring him… here?"

"No. Sorry," she answered abruptly, crouching down to grab a handful of clothes to shove into the bottom dresser drawer.

"This could take some time," Sam warned, Dean still not willing to accept it.

"Which we don't have. Look, we've been trying to find a lead for weeks, we have nothing to show for it. Meanwhile, Mom, Jack, they could be hurt. Or worse. And we're stuck in this stupid hotel room doing…" Dean began before kicking the bed Sam was sitting on, the bed's vibrating function turning on causing Sam to jump to his feet, "Bonus… looking for some runaway, dumbass archangel who doesn't wanna be found."

Liv shot Dean a glare, angry or not only she got to call him a dumbass. This could take days, it could turn out to be a dead end, once he got wind they were in town there was no doubt he would take off and they would be back to square one. Finding Gabriel in a city like this was like searching for a needle in a haystack. A soft knock at the door set all three of their attentions in that direction. Sam and Dean drew their guns as Sam gestured for Liv to hide behind the partition in the center of the room, her following suit by pulling the gun from the waistband of her jeans, ready for backup.

She heard the door creak open slowly, there was no sound of a struggle that followed. Time seemed to stand still as she waited for a hint of what was happening, anything, then a strained voice sounded out from the silence. 'Hey fellas, lookin' for me?'

Frozen, she remained crouched behind the wooden barrier. This was supposed to take days, she was supposed to have time to prepare. Air burned as it traveled into her lungs, it felt like her chest was closing off. She suspected he didn't know she was here, not yet. Something was wrong, she could tell by his voice. Then she heard the pained groan and her panic overtook her, all of her anger washing away as the thought of him in trouble took precedence. She shot up from her hiding place and her eyes immediately found him. He was leaning against the doorway, blood soaked on his lower abdomen into a white button-down shirt under a long, sweeping black coat. His face was contorted into a pained grimace, his hand clutching the still seeping wound, and when his eyes caught her his face fell.

"Liv?" he wheezed, terror and relief flooding him.

There she was, alive, breathing, standing. The stark opposite to the last time he'd seen her, Castiel had done well on his word of taking care of her. She was perfect, every piece of her. Desperate for the safety of her embrace, to feel her arms wrapped around him secure and strong, he took a step forward towards her and immediately stopped. He remembered her words from that night two weeks ago, and he remembered his own words from that night as well. The things Loki had planted into his mind. Loki. If he knew she was here… but it was too late now. Pain seared through him as he shuffled his feet again, pulling another groan from his chest as he keeled over.

"Jesus," she cried, running to stand in front of him.

Steadying him with her hands on his shoulders, she searched his face for answers. His eyes looked lost, confused and hurt, his face was still twisted from his physical discomfort. There was no contempt in his gaze. This wasn't the way a person looked at someone they wanted rid of, someone they didn't want to see again. His breathing was labored, he was obviously in an immense amount of pain, but he didn't budge. He was waiting for her, for her next reaction or motion. Subconsciously one of her hands traveled to his cheek, her thumb running across the stubbled skin as she assessed him, just like he'd done to her a hundred times before.

"Come on," she cooed, guiding him to the couch against the wall, "Sam, do we have a first aid kit?"

As she lowered him into a sitting position, she heard Sam rummaging through his bag for the old metal tin that held what few things the Winchesters typically used to patch themselves up. It was seriously lacking, hers was better. It was also back in Kansas. Carefully she unbuttoned the bottom half of his shirt, pulling the fabric off of the torn skin eliciting a hiss and winced twitch, uncovering three massive claw wounds. Her eyes shot up to his face, baffled at how he could have gotten such an injury. There was far more to this story than she had suspected. He was fighting something, or someone. The question now was why.

"Do you.. need a minute?" Sam asked from behind her, passing a wet towel over shoulder.

She had to think about it for a moment, a second of privacy would be nice, but it also meant opening a door she wasn't sure she was ready to open. Gabriel stayed silent, waiting for her to answer, afraid to give the wrong one.

"No," she murmured, gently pressing the cool cloth to Gabriel's wounds, his face falling slightly at her answer.

The room was silent as she worked. Dean and Sam watched on, Dean impatient and Sam sympathetic. He knew this wasn't easy for her, probably not for Gabriel either. He could feel the words unsaid that had settled between them, the sadness and the guilt. Mostly though, he thought it was longing. The way Gabriel's eyes would flicker down to her, it was a look he knew. Dean had looked at Lisa like that, and he was sure he had a similar one when thoughts of Amelia passed through his mind.

"This may hurt a little," Liv whispered as she pressed the bandage down onto the now clean gashes.

"A little?" Gabriel groaned, gritting his teeth as she applied pressure.

"How'd you know we were here?" Dean asked, breaking through the silence.

"Come on. I felt your witch's tracking spell the second she laid it on me. Tasted like haggis."

"So now you're in trouble?" Sam asked, Liv's eyes shooting to Gabriel's face.

"What gave you that idea?"

"You show up on our doorstep, bleeding like a stuck pig," Dean answered, his irritation growing.

"This? Eh, you know, you… roll into town for a little R&R, stumble into the wrong poker game, take a guy's money, his wife… things get messy."

Liv's stomach churned as she backed away. Deep down she knew he was lying, she knew that tone, that cadence. It didn't make the words hurt any less though. She remained silent, averting her gaze from all three of the men in the room.

"You're trying to tell us you came here for R&R?" Sam asked, his tone hinting he also knew it was a lie.

"Yeah, this isn't exactly the Riviera," Dean added.

"I know right? Huh. Yeah, so anyway um… I don't suppose you guys have anymore of my grace laying around right? Cause uh, the tank's a little low," Gabriel stammered, his eyes staying locked on Liv as he watched her anxiously chewing the inside of her lip.

"Oh, did you drain it killing Asmodeus?" Sam pressed.

"And ditching you. And a few other stops along the way. It'll recharge, eventually. But uh, until then…"

"Whatever we didn't use on you, we used to open a rift," Dean confessed, Gabriel's face falling at the news.

"Cool. Superdupes. Okay. Well, uh, in that case, Liv, can I talk to you outside? And gentlemen, I must bid you a fond adi- Oh! Yeah, nope. Maybe after a… little siesta."

Gabriel flopped down onto the sofa, muttering and groaning to himself, after his failed attempt at standing, laying completely still on his back. Sam and Dean exchanged perturbed glances before looking to Liv for an answer.

"Yeah he does this now," she confirmed, shrugging her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest.

"What is… this?" Dean jabbed, throwing his hand out towards Gabriel.

"A siesta."

Dean sighed, his level of done with his whole situation was starting to grate on her. His need for control and power in every facet was something she would never adjust to. Sam followed his brother to sit at the small dining table a few feet from the couch, both sitting in irritated silence as they retreated into their own heads. Liv's eyes fell back to the sleeping angel on the couch. She sat on the table that stood inches away from him, revisiting the urge to run her finger through that honey hair she'd never get enough of. It had been two weeks since she'd seen him and every step she'd taken to distance herself from him was completely erased as she stared at his sharp, angular features. She'd never progress as long as he kept popping in and out like this. She was stuck.

"Until his grace levels come back up, I-I just… I don't get it," Sam stuttered.

"Yeah well, right now, don't care. He's here and we're gonna keep him here," Dean barked in response.

"Where? Where am I?" Gabriel jolted awake, sitting upright, his eyes immediately falling to Liv who was inches away from him, "Sweetheart? Oh right, you."

Gabriel's face fell from happy to disappointed when the Winchesters came into view, but it didn't stop that little jump her heart did when he'd first thought he'd woken up to just her. Her nickname, and the love that had fallen across his face for that split second was enough to spark that hope alive once again. He'd looked like he was waking up inside a dream, and in fact, he had. She'd plagued his dreams and thoughts and finally, after weeks, she'd been here when his eyes opened.

"Gabe?" she whispered, fighting the urge to throw her arms around his neck, "are you okay?"

"Gabriel, look, we don't really know what's going on here-" Sam interrupted as he rose from his seat.

"We need your help," Dean finished, tone harsh and cold.

"Uh… yeah. Not a big joiner," Gabriel replied, angry at them for preventing him from answering Liv.

"Oh, so you got better things to do than save the world?"

"Exactly," Gabriel groaned again as he stood, successfully this time, holding his hand out to Liv to bring her to standing with him, "Look, this has been… great, a real thrill. But, uh, I just came here for the silver stuff. And since you two are all fresh out, it's time for me to say sayonara. Liv, outside?"

"Are you leaving?" she asked harshly, ripping her hand from his as he walked her to the door, "again?"

"Just… come outside, I don't want to argue right now-"

Gabriel's pleading was cut short as the door burst open revealing two men. He turned quickly, using his free arm to shove Liv behind him as he saw who was standing there, his shoulders falling as he sighed. Liv peered up over his shoulder, one was wearing an absolutely heinous plaid suit, the other, older, was in jeans and a jacket. Her hands came to rest on Gabriel's hips as she pressed herself further into his back, his arm still holding in her place protectively behind him.

"Raspberries."


	9. Chapter 9

Liv clung to the man in front of her, at this moment uncaring of the rift that had formed between them. Her chest pressed firmly into his back as her hands remained glued to his hips, and she could hear her breath coming out in panicked little rasps just barely over the pounding of her own heart. As she stared, her eyes grew wider as the bigger of the two walked into the room, the younger, smaller one on his heels, their faces angry as they stared at Gabriel. As the duo advanced, Gabriel's arm constricted tighter into Liv's body; he'd be damned if they laid one finger on her.

"We're here for the angel," the taller one snarled, "and his whore."

As the men's faces began to glow green, Liv pulled herself impossibly closer to Gabriel. They wanted her and him, they knew her, and they were not anything like anything she'd ever seen before. The overlay of a skull illuminated the older one's face, as the other peered at his brother beside him with the outline of a horse extended down from his own head.

"It's okay," Gabriel whispered to her, his lips barely moving as he began to back them up, "stay with me."

That wasn't comforting in the slightest. Her feet shuffled backwards with his as Sam and Dean looked between each other, then back at Gabriel who had somehow already made his way back behind them.

"The hell are you guys?" Dean asked, attention turning quickly to the inhuman pair before returning it to Gabriel, "The hell are these guys?"

"Oh, just a couple of Norse Demi-Gods," Gabriel responded, keeping his voice nonchalant as he kept his feet shuffling towards the closet at the side of the room.

"Demi-Gods?!" Sam exclaimed before the two Norse brothers lunged at the hunters.

The taller ran to Sam, the plaid-wearing to Dean and Gabriel quickly took advantage, whipping around and grabbing Liv by her waist to pull her into the closet. She could hear the fight ensuing, no doubt the bodies of her two friends being thrown around like rag dolls, crashing into furniture and walls, but all she could see was him. His face was centimeters away, golden eyes bearing into hers filled with concern as he assessed her current condition. When his hand came to rest on her cheek, gentle and warm, almost all of her anger was forgotten.

"So many better things we could be doing in a closet," he laughed, and reality came crashing back around her.

"What _are_ we doing? We need to help them!" Liv snapped, the groans and grunts of Sam and Dean pushing to the forefront of her thoughts.

"We are hiding, because they will kill you, or worse…"

"What's worse than killing me?"

"You don't wanna know."

As Gabriel pulled himself away from her to peer out the crack in the door, she felt her ire returning. He was about to leave again, two Norse Demi-Gods were here tearing up a room looking for both of them, and he'd randomly showed up at their front door covered in blood. Not to mention, he still hadn't addressed his leaving two weeks ago after making more empty promises. Although, she was pretty sure she was living the reason why right now, but it still left the door open as to _why_ two gods were searching for him in the first place. She heard Dean call out for Gabriel, begging for help as they were losing their respective battles.

"You owe me answers Gabriel!" she demanded, keeping her voice quiet but harsh.

"I know I do! You'll get them!" he hissed in response, his teeth grit together, "Just… stay here. Don't move, don't make a sound, don't even breathe."

Gabriel crouched and grabbed something out of the massive briefcase he'd been carting around since he'd shown up and then quickly ran from their hiding place. Liv watched on from the confines of her sanctuary as Gabriel snuck his way behind the larger of the two and pushed a long wooden blade straight through his back, then shoved his body off of the sword and onto the floor. As the older one fell, the younger's eyes went wide, realizing he was now outnumbered, and Gabriel pulled a second katana from his belt loop.

"Hiya handsome, you ready to die?" Gabriel insinuated, pointing the weapon straight towards his opponent.

The horse-faced god ran from the room, and as soon as he was out of sight Gabriel keeled over in pain, groaning as he held his hand to his wound. Liv emerged slowly from the closet, her eyes staying locked on the angel, but this time she didn't run to him. Being close to him was dangerous, it changed her mindset and clouded her judgement. When she could smell his familiar arid warmth and his eyes looked at her with that softness she knew was saved only for her, her resolve broke. Every time. She stayed close to Sam, using him effectively as a wall between herself and Gabriel, his eyes never straying from her.

"You okay?" Dean asked, still out of breath.

"Uh, yeah. I'll go after him in a sec. I just… need a minute," Gabriel responded, his voice once again hoarse with pain.

"Wrong. You're not goin' anywhere. Liv?"

Her heart broke as she reached into her back pocket, pulling out a pair of Enochian-etched handcuffs. She watched as his facial expression changed from physical discomfort, to betrayal. She wouldn't lock him up. There was no way she would do that to him, knowing what he'd been through.

"You don't need those… come on," he pleaded, holding his hands out in surrender to her.

"Don't I?" she faltered, harsh and cold.

"Sweetheart… no."

Sam and Dean watched on as she approached him. She knew Dean wasn't going to allow Gabriel to sit unrestrained, it was part of the deal. They needed his grace and they were willing to stop at nothing to get it, and she needed answers. When she came to stand in front of him, she felt that head cloud forming again. Even with a blood-soaked shirt, she wanted nothing more than to bury herself into his chest. Why she was so unrestrained and uncontrollable around him was always a mystery. It was like some piece of her deep down craved him constantly without cause or reason. She threw all common sense and caution to the wind as soon as he was within arms reach.

Finally, the courage to look at him surged through her and she kept her gaze hard and unwavering. She wasn't going to let him or her traitorous self-control win this one. He bowed his head as he willingly held a wrist out to her and his submission almost brought her to tears. She knew if anyone else had asked he would have fought it, which was why Dean was having her do the dirty work. He'd do anything she asked of him, he was already a goner when it came to her. Whether she believed it or not she owned him, wholly and unconditionally. He loved her with every shaking tendril of his diminished grace and he always would.

When the metal cuffs clanged against the bars of the partition, successfully locking the archangel in place, Liv went to stand between the brothers, eyes unable to meet Gabriel's. She knew it was wrong. She'd tried to talk Dean out of it, saying it would only anger him, possibly send him back into another depressive episode, but he didn't care. None of this was about Gabriel or even her. It was about the mission. Always. The room was silent, the air heavy with words and thoughts unsaid. Gabriel wanted five minutes alone with Liv, that was it. He wanted to explain himself, he wanted her to trust him again, to want him again. She needed to know that everything had been for her.

"Well, I guess we should take care of this," Dean grunted, gesturing to the dead Demi-God at his feet, "Sammy? Can we just trust you two here alone together?"

Gabriel and Liv's eyes snapped up to Dean, "uh… yeah," they answered in unison.

"I don't care what he promises, he stays on that bar, in those cuffs. Understand?"

If there was one thing Liv didn't take to, it was being ordered around. Gabriel smirked to himself as he saw her nostrils flare and her lips harden into a thin line. That was his girl. She said nothing, her only response a slow, enraged blink as she sat at the dining room table on the opposite end of the room as him. She needed to keep her distance. As the boys dragged the corpse from the room, leaving the pair alone, she felt her face grow hot.

"So are we just gonna sit here awkwardly 'til Rocky and Bullwinkle come back?" Gabriel scoffed, shifting his body to face her as much as he could, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between them once again.

"Did you always know you were going to leave?" she asked, eyes still averted.

"I have never _wanted_ to leave you."

"Right…"

"Why, do you think I did any of this to hurt you? Not everyone in the world is out to get you, Liv. Especially not me. I had to do this. For you. For me. For us."

Those words anchored deep into her stomach, the tears she'd been fighting finally spilling over. She tried to reason with herself to stay strong, to stick to the plan, but he didn't hate her. That was what she was banking on, to make this that easy, clean break, but he didn't. Clearly he still felt the same.

"How many times have you just… left me?" she cried, his face growing angry at her question.

"Twice! And oh, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the one where I'd be taking an extended, luxurious vacation in the shit-stained bowels of hell, so I may be gone until someone comes and pulls me from fucking Margaritaville!" he snapped, "I came to you, and told you I wasn't dead, so you'd _know_ I was coming back to you. I can't help that I got taken to Paradise City against my will."

She knew he was right. If he'd never been roped into the Apocalypse, she had no doubt in her mind he never would have strayed from her side. He'd proven it, time and time again. Her anger wasn't directed at him though. She knew she was using him as nothing more than the whipping post for her own self-loathing that had been crawling through her since the moment she got that phone call.

"Why won't you tell me what happened?" she asked softly, needing to know the answer.

"What happened in hell? Uh… that should be obvious," he retorted, eyebrows furrowing.

"Just tell me."

"No! Did you ever think for one eensy second that just maybe I don't want you to know? That I don't want you to picture me being…"

Memories flooded his mind. He was an archangel. He was one of the most powerful beings to ever exist and he'd been reduced to nothing more than a juice box. Played like a fool, kept filthy in a box desperate for nothing more than a gentle touch, for _her_. He'd been turned to a desperate, quivering shell of what he was meant to be, of what he was. Sold off for a cheap buck and a laugh.

"I sat there, for years, without putting up a fight," he continued, his voice softer, "for you. To keep him from coming after you. I'm not dragging you down there myself when I gave _everything_ to keep you safe."

This was far worse than she could have ever imagined. _For you_. It echoed against the walls of her skull, churning her stomach as her lungs began to close off. _For you_. She watched as his face fell into unease as her anxiety overtook her. His body jolted upright, the restraints holding him from doing what every cell in his body was screaming at him to do. Shaking her head, she jumped from her chair, running to the bathroom and slamming the door quickly before hanging her head over the sink.

"Liv!" Gabriel hollered, anger coursing through him again as he pulled on the cuffs imprisoning him "Liv, are you okay?!"

What did he say? He'd tiptoed around the subject for a reason, so as not to upset her just like this, but this was always the outcome. Every time he tried to protect her, to keep her safe, it always ended in tears. As he collapsed back into his chair, his head dropped in despair. Every good intention he'd ever had in the end, was always in vain. He never should have touched her, tainted her with this curse of knowing him, of loving him. She was silent in her hideaway, he couldn't even tell if she was still in there. Intently, he listened for any sob, sniffle or cry, but he heard nothing.

"Sweetheart?" he called gently, "Can you say something… please?"

Her body was still trembling as she tried to regulate her breathing. Thoughts spun around her head, making her dizzy as she gripped the edges of the sink for stability. He'd subjected himself to all of that, for her. Whatever it was, that had turned him catatonic, that had ruined him, was her fault. She was the cause of his nightmares, panic-stricken responses to noises and fast movements, for the way he tried to hide in plain sight now. He'd lost himself to keep her safe. She wasn't worth that. She never had been and especially not now. The years she spent without him had seemed like torture at the time, but now, this was worse.

A gentle knock at the door startled her, it couldn't be Gabriel…

"Hey," a soft, gruff voice greeted as someone slipped into the bathroom with her, "You okay?"

Dean. She'd expected Gabriel to find a way out of those cuffs before seeing Dean coming in to check on her. Words evaded her as she stared at him, wishing that instead of green it was gold looking back at her, but relieved it was him nonetheless.

"Dean, there's… there's something I need to…" she began, her voice shaking as she confessed to the one person she hoped may understand.

Gabriel sat on the other side of that door still, his eyes hard as he waited for Dean to emerge, hopefully with Liv in tow. Sam stood near him, unsure of what to say but curious as to what had happened. The angel tried his hardest to hear any bits of the conversation but the two hunters were well-versed in hushed tones and keeping secrets.

"What happened Gabriel?" Sam finally asked, his voice startling.

"I don't know," Gabriel admitted, his exasperation very evident in his voice, "I…. told her that Asmodeus left her alone because I played along with his games downstairs and she freaked."

Sam's face wrinkled in confusion. In his mind, that would elicit the opposite reaction, gratitude and love, not be cause to barricade yourself in the bathroom. He knew Gabriel was just as confused, his eyes still having never left the door separating him from her. Sam said nothing more, not wanting to upset him any further, the poor guy had been put through the ringer enough already it was a miracle he was even still standing. Tortured in hell for what Sam knew was hundreds of years, shoved back into reality and running off on a revenge mission all while he fought to win back what he figured, was the only thing in the universe he actually truly loved. That thing now locking herself away from him after learning that what'd he'd been through was all for her. None of it made any sense.

Dean emerged moments later, Sam recognizing the look on his face immediately. Guilt.

"Well?" Gabriel asked as Dean closed the door behind him, leaving Liv alone again.

"She's fine," Dean lied, "needs another few minutes."

With a hand clasped firmly around her mouth, Liv stifled her sobs. Her eyes were clenched shut as she tried to shove the noises trying to escape back down her throat. Getting that off her chest had not helped, nor had Dean's words, which had unintentionally only made it worse. She could hear the three of them talking on the other side of the door, she could tell the conversation was being dominated by Gabriel and she knew she was missing what she'd been so desperate to hear. His story. At the same time she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it, not now. Would knowing ease the burden she'd been carrying? She owed it to him to know what happened, that she knew, she owed him far more than anything she'd ever be able to repay, but she had to start somewhere.

"Well, Vegas odds had my bro pulling off a big win," she heard Gabriel say as she slowly opened the door.

"Yeah? And whose fault was that?" Dean replied as the three men came into her view, Gabriel's eyes shooting over to her immediately.

"Hey…" Gabriel cooed, his entire body softening as she entered the room.

"Well, go on," she urged, hovering closer to Dean than she normally ever would have, using him to hide from Gabriel's concerned gaze.

She listened silently as he retold bits and pieces of his capture. He'd been sold off by his former friends, the ones he was now running around killing, Loki and his sons. The real Loki. She recalled that night all those years ago, when he entered that room full of Pagan Gods as him, when Kali had outed him as Gabriel and shoved his own blade through his chest. After faking his death, he'd ran to them for aid once again, and they'd tricked him into false protection all to sell him off to Asmodeus. Now, he was on a mission to kill all four of them, and he was halfway there with no intention of stopping now. He'd tapped into his time in hell, again glossing over any details other than what they knew of the demon feeding off his grace, but the look in his eyes as he traveled back to those years was all Liv needed to see. Sam and Dean had agreed to help him finish this off in exchange for his help with their own mess and Gabriel had half-heartedly agreed. The three of them were still not sure if he would actually stick around when he was done, but what other choice did they have?

"It's not your fault," Gabriel whispered to her as she stood beside him, unlocking him from his restraints, "Liv, it's not your fault, I didn't mean for it to… sound that way. Please look at me."

As she turned the key, popping the cuff open, her bottom lip quivered as her eyes snapped shut again. She couldn't look at him, standing this close to him was reopening that hollow pit that had formed in her stomach less than an hour before. As he stood, his hand landed on her hip, and one tear escaped her eye, rolling lazily down her cheek.

"I still meant what I said, before I… before I kinda lost it there. All of it," he promised, pressing into her skin with his fingertips, holding onto any chance he had, "just tell me where and, we're gone."

How many times could a broken thing break before it was irreparable? Her heart was heavy, his gentle touch and soft tone not helping the situation at all. This man loved her, there was no question or doubt, not anymore, but that brought her no solace. It should have, but now, it was only pain. She didn't deserve him, she never had. She could feel the Winchesters gazes on them; Dean knew the truth, and he was the only one. She could picture his face, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed as he awaited her response. What he was rooting for, she wasn't sure. She needed air.

Quickly, her feet carried her out of the room, Gabriel's fingers lingering as long as they could until she was out of reach. He didn't chase her, although he wanted to. Now wasn't the time and this wasn't the place, once Loki and Sleipnir had been taken out he'd figure out what had snapped in her head. Until then, it was complete the mission, all else came secondary. Yet, as he went into the bathroom to change back into his regular clothing, he knew his priorities were shifting. If he'd loved her any less he may have found it easier to stow her away, but this was different. It had always been different.

The sun was shining as she flung the doors to the seedy motel, warming her skin, but that chill in her chest remained. She could see the Impala from where she stood and lying down in it's back seat to think about everything that had happened in peace and solitude seemed like the best idea. Cursing herself for not deciding to just drive her own car, wishing she could hop in and take off never to be found again, she started towards the shiny, sleek classic thirty feet away.

Gabriel and the Winchesters emerged from those same doors no more than ten minutes later. He was on edge, ready to end this fight and move on, make amends and prove to that little hot head that occupied his every waking thought that he was ready to be what she needed of him. His eyes scanned the lot, and when she was nowhere to be found his heart sank. Whipping his head from side to side, the brothers noticed his frantic change of mood and within seconds it clicked. Liv was gone. They shared a knowing look before taking off in opposite directions, checking behind every wall, car and door. Sam began calling her, each time no answer as Gabriel threw open the doors to the Impala, finding it empty.

"No…" Gabriel muttered, " no no no no no…Liv!"

"She's no where, won't answer her phone," Sam reported as the three met at the car, Gabriel running his hand through his hair panicked.

"They got her."

"What do they want with her?" Dean asked, his naivety only irritating Gabriel further.

"What do you think, hot shot? I've killed two of them!"

The men then piled into the car, the wheels squealing as they took off in the direction of the Ophidian. Gabriel's heart pounded, this was the one thing he was meant to avoid. Loki was never supposed to get his hands on her, Kali had warned him, and he knew. The things Loki would do with Gabriel's small, fragile, downtrodden human were nothing pleasant. He needed to get there, and fast. Before she was lost forever.

Liv groaned as she came to, her cheek rubbing up against something smooth and cool. It was soft, like she was lying on a bed, her head gently being cradled by a pillow. So now she was dead and this was heaven? A bed with satin sheets? She'd never laid on satin sheets at any point in her life, wasn't heaven just a bunch of your favorite memories all played out?

"The hell?" she muttered, pushing herself upright to sitting, her eyes finally adjusting to the light pouring into the room.

This room was unfamiliar. It was swanky, far too rich for her blood even with Gabriel around. He'd always respected her love for the mundane.

"Hello Olivia," a smooth, deep voice rumbled from a couch on the opposite end of the room, foreign, yet with a hint of something she knew.

"Who are you? And where the fuck am I?" she asked, that creeping feeling that something was very, very wrong dominating every other emotion.

The man stood, slowly, almost predatorily and when he turned her eyes widened in terror. It was Gabriel, but it wasn't. He was dressed in a striped vest and white button down complete with a tie, nothing her Gabriel would ever be caught dead in. Her Gabriel refused to even button a shirt up all the way, always said it was 'suffocating'. He'd never voluntarily strangle himself with a tie. His face was all wrong, this one was arrogant, hard, self-assured. There were no smile lines, or sparkle in his eyes, there was no warmth in this man. His cheeks held no dimples, and his mouth seemed to be permanently stuck in a slightly down-turned grimace. This was not Gabriel, even with the same face he didn't hold a candle to the real thing.

"I know this must be… jarring for you," the stranger taunted, monotoned and cold.

"Who the fuck are you?" Liv barked, comforted by the cold metal of her gun still tucked safely into the waistband of her jeans.

"Didn't he tell you? This face you adore isn't really his. I see you aren't the only one keeping secrets."

A smirk crept onto the man's face. This was Loki. This was the root of nine years of hell, for both herself and Gabriel. Rage bubbled in her chest as she glared at him, playing over every plan of action available to her as he approached.

"We kept an eye on you, after disposing of Gabriel. I was shocked to say the least, and that doesn't happen very often. You're an interesting little thing you know, for a human," Loki continued.

"You know nothing about me," Liv spat, sliding off the bed to her feet. Attacking would be far easier from here.

"Oh on the contrary Miss Olivia, I do. Tell me, did you even want him back?"

Before he could gain sturdy ground, Liv lunged, using all of her weight to knock the Demi-God backwards to the ground. As he fell, she followed, pulling her gun from her back and landing straddling his hips, the tip of her weapon pressed firmly against his throat. She knew this wasn't going to kill him, silver bullets or not, but hopefully blowing his face off would at least slow him down enough for her to escape.

"You know that won't do anything to me, sweetheart," he laughed, the name sounding like a curse as it fell from his lips.

"Don't call me that," she demanded, cocking the pistol with her thumb.

The response was nothing more than a chuckle, his hands coming to her thighs on either side of him. Slowly, he ran his hands up her legs to her waist, his touch seductive and eyes darkening with what appeared to be lust.

"Well, I am seeing a little of the allure now," Loki purred as the fingers of his right hand danced along her stomach, the other, digging into her hip where Gabriel's had been an hour before.

Liv's finger shook on the trigger. This wasn't Gabriel, but something in her brain had frozen her hand as she looked down at his face. His eyes were the same color, his hair tousled around his head on the floor beneath him just like Gabriel's would be. She was so starved for the angel, that the Demi-God's touch was almost as entrancing. She'd lingered too long. Before she could react, the man beneath her hoisted her up and slammed her into the wall, pinning her arms above her head by her wrists. The clang of her gun onto the floor as it fell echoed through the room as she grimaced in pain from the pressure on her upper limbs, Loki's body pressing up against hers as close as he could get.

"Now now, no need to get angry. Just answer my question. Did you want him back?" Loki implored, his breath hot on her cheek.

"What's it matter to you?" Liv snapped, trying to twist from his grasp to no avail.

"It matters," he breathed as he pressed her further into the wall, his free hand coming and pressing around her throat,"that weak, pathetic little archangel. Broken beyond repair, too far gone in his own self-antipathy to even be what you need him to be."

"Trying to get me to switch teams? Look, I know you have the same face and all but… let's be honest. I don't much compare to a horse. Bit too tight in all the right places, if you will."

"Hmm. You find yourself charming, do you? I have no use for a tiresome, apathetic human whore."

"So why am I here then? You know he's coming either way. You don't need me as bait."

"Because you're going to tell him that secret you've been hiding. I'll be sure of it. Nothing would please me more than watching that nuisance's heart break right before I gut you in front of him. I may not be able to kill him, but I'll mar him so deeply he'll wish he was back in Hell."

Loki's hand squeezed around her throat a little harder, she could feel the bruises that would be there when he released her, stifling her roar as she fought against his hold. She felt his breath along her neck as her feet kicked the air, trying desperately to land one, but failing. She was rendered completely powerless with no choice but to concede.

Gabriel was fueled by his anger, but motivated by his love. When he snapped the lights out as he emerged from the elevator, it was as if he was no longer in control of his actions. He rushed Sleipnir, whirling him by the collar of his jacket throwing him easily to the ground. He'd always been weak, depending on his family to fight his battles as he danced and laughed to their dirty work. Gabriel was happy to put him out of his misery, but he'd be sure the little foal would be staring at his face as he did it. With another snap, the lights were back on, and the fear etched into his features gave Gabriel's heart a little jumpstart.

"Please…" the boy begged, his eyes wide.

"Where is she?" Gabriel fumed, pressing the wooden blade a little harder into his stomach.

"She's with Father, she's… she's alive. But hurry."

"Did you take her?"

The whimper that fell from the monster's lips were all Gabriel needed to hear, and he plunged the katana through Loki's last remaining son, one more piece of himself snapping back into place. As he pulled a rag from his pocket, he searched the area for Sam and Dean, ensuring they were also still safe after the fire fight they'd been caught in, but all he saw was Sam.

"Dean? Dean! He left," Sam was calling, searching for his brother.

"Ah. Big bros right? Always think they know best," Gabriel stated as he cleaned the blood from the katana, prepping himself for the big boss.

"The penthouse. He went after Loki!"

"No. No, Loki's mine!"

Gabriel took off, not caring if Sam was left in his dust as he ran to the top floor. Liv was there, with Loki, the two things he needed most in this world were waiting up a few more flights of stairs. He feared for what Loki had done to her, he was merciless and cruel, he would not have taken it easy on her. He also knew that Liv was never, ever one to lay down and obey, which no doubt would only have fueled Loki's fire. Silently, he pleaded that she was still alive, unharmed and still herself. Loki had many tricks up his sleeves, and he wasn't afraid to use them.

"Liv!" Gabriel yelled as he rounded the corner from the stairwell into the hallway of the uppermost floor, his call to her instinctual as he hoped for the impossible of her there, waiting for him.

"Hello, Gabriel," a different, but still familiar voice greeted.

Showtime.


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel froze. There he was. Loki. He was leaning up against the wall, dressed in one of those ridiculous vests as always, his face still stuck in that 'someone-pissed-in-his-Wheaties' expression even after all these years. However, Gabriel's gaze was quickly pulled from his former friend to the cowering figure at his feet. Liv. She was sitting on her knees, one of Loki's hideous neckties wrapped tightly around her mouth, gagging and suffocating her slowly. Loki's hand was clutching her long, brown pony tail, effectively holding her in place beside him as if it were a leash. His stomach dropped at the sight. From what he could tell, she was generally unharmed. Her clothes were intact, one eye looked slightly swollen, but beyond that she was in one piece. Her mind was a different story, but Gabriel prayed he'd arrived on time.

"Liv…" Gabriel gasped, his voice shaking from rage and fear together, "what did you do to her?"

Loki smirked, happy to be eliciting the desired emotion from the angel, "Your pet told me she didn't much compare to a horse, but I believe I have to disagree. Don't you?"

With a guttural growl, Gabriel took a step towards him, ready to lunge, uncaring that the katana meant for him was missing with the elder Winchester. As his foot lifted from the floor, Loki responded. In one swift movement he pulled what Gabriel recognized as Liv's hunting knife from the waist of his slacks and held it to her throat, freezing him in his path.

"Not one more step, or I'll bleed her like a pig. I know you don't have what it takes to heal her either. So no bluffing," Loki taunted, cocking his head to one side, "It really would be a shame. I've taken a liking to her."

Rage boiled Gabriel's blood as he stared at the blade held to Liv's throat, his nostrils flaring. He was helpless, there was nothing he could do to help her, besides obey. Her expression was unreadable, at least from this distance, her eyes refusing to meet his from across the hallway. This was the one thing that wasn't supposed to happen, and he'd let it. He shouldn't have let her walk out of that hotel room, he should never have run without an explanation, this was his fault. As always.

When Loki took a step toward him, Liv obediently fell to her hands and crawled along the floor beside him and Gabriel could feel the satisfaction radiating off of the Demi-God. This was pure heaven for him, complete control and power over not one, but two beings. This was what he lived for, toying with people, emotions and situations, molding everything into entertainment for himself. Gabriel couldn't wait to end him once and for all. The question was how without losing her in the crossfire.

Loki came to stand a foot away from him, that smug grin still plastered on his face, "Get on your knees and beg," he commanded.

As the words left his lips, he pressed the tip of the blade into Liv's skin, her eyes snapping shut in pain as she held back her cry. Gabriel's lip curled into a snarl as he slowly dropped, his eyes staying locked on the mirror image of his own. When his knees hit the floor, he kept his gaze strong and his body stronger. He may be on his knees but that didn't mean he was giving in.

"Pathetic," Loki ridiculed, "Look at what you resort yourself to. For what? A _human_? Are you that desperate for affections?"

With quick pull on her hair, Loki jerked Liv's body level with the angel's, their faces inches apart.

"Look at her," he ordered, tugging her a little harder.

Slowly, Gabriel pulled his eyes from his opponent to hers, unprepared for the guilt that would undoubtedly wash through him. He felt his brow relax as her brown eyes met with his, his murderous stare softening. From here he could see her red, swollen eyes, bloodshot and filled with sorrow. They weren't fearful like he'd been expecting, which raised questions as to what tortures Loki had subjected her to in the hour he'd had her. Her lips were strained against the pull of the fabric between them, her breathing hard as she tried to take in as much air her nose would allow. A bruise was forming beneath her right eye, she'd been hit by who he assumed was Sleipnir when he'd taken her captive but he couldn't be sure. Loki generally tried to remain as unphysical as he could, he was all mind games and theatrics. Gabriel tried his best to apologize with his eyes, he could feel his lips downturning into a frown as she looked at him, helpless. She looked as if she'd given up, and that was not a phenomena that he was at all familiar with.

"Tell him," Loki spat, "Show him the real person he falls to his knees for."

With a quick tick of his wrist Loki cut the tie from around her mouth, causing her to gasp in mouthfuls of air as her body recovered from its lack of oxygen. Her chest heaved as she whimpered quietly, her eyes never leaving Gabriel's, fear spilling into them.

"Please," she begged, her voice raspy and exhausted, she'd been screaming, "please…"

"Tell him," Loki demanded again, "or I will."

"It's okay," Gabriel comforted, his heart racing in panic, "it's okay, sweetheart. You can tell me."

Her throat was closing in on itself, her tongue frozen in her mouth. He wasn't making this any easier, with those anxiety-stricken eyes and soft frown, his tone so adoring even now. Half of her thought that Loki killing her was the better option, but she knew that Gabriel would blame himself and leaving him with that guilt to bear for eternity just wasn't something she could do. The guilt was hers to bear, and it was time to come clean.

"I didn't look for you," she confessed, tears pouring from her eyes as the words left her lips in the form of choked sobs, "When you didn't come back, I never looked for you. I never tried to find you. I… left you. I tried to forget you. I'm sorry! Baby, I'm so sorry…"

Liv's wrenching sobs echoed through the empty space as she fell to her forearms, burying her face into the floor as she wept. She'd meant to bury that, he was never supposed to know, it was the one secret she meant to take to her grave. She couldn't bear to look at him, the betrayal that would be etched into his face would haunt her until her dying day.

Gabriel stared at the floor, trying to process what he'd just heard. His chest was constricting as he fought the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Not here, not in front of Loki. That would give him the ultimate trophy for this monopoly he'd designed, but his heart was breaking. Deep down he knew it was a good thing, that she'd never tried, she'd be dead. Yet, knowing that she'd never even attempted felt like every day of the past twelve years were all… for nothing. She loved him, so he thought, but maybe she didn't?

"She left you. To rot," Loki sneered, finally dropping his hold on Liv's hair as he'd rendered her immobile with emotion alone, "yet you risk your life to save her, time and time again. She doesn't love you. Who could? Ineffectual, degenerate little runaway. Not even daddy wanted you. You're going to die, alone, for nothing. With no one to mourn you."

"That's not true, " Liv sputtered, lifting her head to only be swiftly knocked in the temple by Loki's foot.

With that one action, Gabriel's rage won. He leapt from his knees and tackled the Norse Trickster, knocking him to his back.

"Go!" Gabriel yelled, flipping his eyes to Liv quickly, Loki's elbow connecting with his chin before he could even turn his eyes back.

Everything in her was telling her to run, to find Sam and Dean, but as she watched as Loki gained the upper hand on Gabriel, she couldn't bear to leave his side. She scurried against the wall, pressing herself as far into the plaster as she could, watching on as Loki rose to his feet.

"You think you're some… poor innocent victim?" Loki began, walking over to Gabriel's hunched form and planting another brutal punch to his jaw, "Gabriel with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. 'Who will help me?' 'Who will save me?' I did!"

Gabriel groaned as Loki lifted him by his jacket, pinning him against the wall by his neck, he knew Liv hadn't left and he spotted her against the wall near the door to the penthouse, he needed to do something. He couldn't lose. Not now. Neither one of the men had noticed the Winchesters come into view, but she did. She also saw what Dean was holding in his hands, Loki's sword.

"But you… you couldn't keep one promise. And then you had the audacity to ask me to help you… AGAIN?!" Loki continued, throwing Gabriel down the hall, landing right in front of her with his back facing her, "You think I deserve to die for your spinelessness? That my sons deserved to die?! For _her_!? You let my father die for a some wallowing Jezebel you found on the side of road and decided you wanted to keep!?"

Liv watched on in horror as Loki pounded the angel into the ground, flinching with each smack of his fist on Gabriel's face. He'd been thrown in Loki's angry speech and was now lying a foot away from her, Loki still yelling in the distance. This was her chance. She pushed herself from the wall over to his crumpled body, grabbing his shoulder with her hand and turning him to face her. Even though she knew she only had mere seconds to spare, she placed her hand on his cheek softly, running her fingers down the stubble of his jaw. His cheek was split open, his hair messily splayed around his face, he almost looked like he didn't even care to fight anymore.

"Get up," she whispered intently, "get up, and finish this."

As she finished her request, he felt something slide into his hand, the wooden handle of Loki's sword. Then her hand slowly closed around his, locking his fingers around the weapon.

"Silly girl," Loki mocked, "He will lead you to your death, and blindly you will follow."

When Loki spoke to her, her gaze never moved from Gabriel's. Her eyes were strong, willing him to continue and finish this mission once and for all. She didn't know where she stood with him anymore, nor did she want to, knowing it would no longer be in high regard, but she refused to watch him roll over and die.

Finally, Gabriel rolled to his feet, grabbing his former friend by his vest and whirling him around to press his back into the wall, the tip of the katana now gently resting against his abdomen. Loki laughed, letting his head loll against the surface behind him.

"Clever girl," he chided, "of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass."

"Shut up," Gabriel snapped, shoving the blade against Loki a little harder.

"Face it, old friend, you're a joke. You're a failure. You couldn't even keep the one thing you cherished above all else. You stand for nothing. And in the end, that's exactly what you'll die for."

"You first."

With one single groan as Gabriel shoved the blade deep into his stomach, Loki fell limp against Gabriel's hold. Liv sighed in relief, knowing that now it was over. Gabriel's quest for vengeance was complete and she hoped that he felt better. That he felt free. Yet, she knew this also brought a whole new level of problems to the table. Now he knew. He knew that she'd walked off and abandoned him, written him off like a bad date and moved on. Although she hadn't, he'd still occupied every waking thought she had, there was no way explanation of why she'd done what she had. Certainly he would want one though, and she knew he deserved it.

"Oh thank god, so it's over? We can go now?" Dean sounded from the doorway, his annoyance over this entire task still very evident in his voice.

Liv knew Gabriel's eyes were locked on her, but she couldn't meet them. Whether it was shame, embarrassment or fear keeping her from him she wasn't sure, but she couldn't face him. Quickly, she turned and sped off back to the ground floor. Running from her responsibilities was nothing short of a talent of hers, it was probably the one thing she did best. She knew it was a temporary solution, giving her maybe ten minutes at best before he'd undoubtedly be standing in front of her. His golden eyes would be glowing in the sunlight, looking at her with the disdain she deserved. Devoid of all the love they once held.

Leaning with her back against the Impala she waited, trying to gather her thoughts and organize them as best as she could. She knew what his first question would be: why? She knew why, but it wasn't going to sit well with him. After he'd come back, her reasoning had been pounded to dust. Everything she'd thought to be reality had turned out to be nothing more than some sick, twisted alternate universe created solely by her own apathy. She'd brought him down to her level and he was far, far above it.

"Are you okay?" a quiet, soft voice asked from in front of her, her eyes still locked on the pavement beneath her feet.

That was not the first question she was expecting, although it should have been. He was always thinking of her first.

"I'm fine," she lied, her voice still heavy with her lingering tears.

"You're lying."

Of course he knew. Hearing those words from his mouth did not help her situation, she'd never meant to lie to him. She never really had before. Not since they'd started whatever this was. She'd always trusted him with every secret, every feeling and he always accepted it. Except this time. No way he stayed true after this.

Still trying to escape her situation, she'd climbed into the backseat of the car, cornering herself like a rat. He followed, determined for answers that she didn't want to give.

"Why didn't you look for me?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle and void of an accusing tone, "I mean, better you didn't, you'd be dead. But not at all?"

Liv felt her bottom lip begin to quiver as guilt went pummeling through her. The sadness in his question was hard enough to hear, but the look on his face was worse. She could still see the complete devotion he held for her, the esteem and the love. If she'd never let herself get taken, she'd be wrapped in his arms right now, their lips in a battle of affections as they reunited finally. He was supposed to be fixed, ready to take on the second act of his life, post-trauma, with her. They were retiring, jaunting off to some quiet, happy place to live out their days. Her days…. But no. They were here, in the back of the impala with an impossible mountain of regret settling between them.

"I thought you never came back…. Because you just didn't want to. I thought, you didn't want it anymore," she told him, her voice heavy with shame, "I just… figured… you'd moved on…"

"Wait…" he began, his eyebrows furrowing, "thought I didn't want what? You?"

As she sighed she felt him slide in closer towards her, but he was careful not to touch her. Whether it was because he didn't want to or was afraid to she wasn't sure, but she wished he would. Ever since he'd come around, she'd always felt like far less than he'd ever deserved, even less than anything he'd actually want. She was plain, boring, her hair was always messy and her life was even messier. She never wore makeup, or dressed in anything but hunter's clothes, a stark difference to any company he'd kept in the past. When he never returned after the Apocalypse, it was something she'd been anticipating for years before. Now she realized she just had had no faith in him, he'd been there, proving himself to her, but she'd never believed it.

"Gabriel, I've never been-" she began before he cut her off.

"Don't say it. If you think I'm someone who would waste my own time on anything other than what I want, you know me a lot less than I thought you did. After everything? You still don't believe that I love you? What do I have to do, Liv? Pull the moon out of the sky and give it to you? _Years_. We were together for years, and you…"

He felt himself growing angry, and he didn't want to lash out at her. Throwing the door open, he emerged back into the Colorado sun, trying to understand her reasoning. He'd been devoted, he knew he had. He loved her, once she came around he'd never wanted anything else. His mind never wandered, nor his eyes, and he gave her _everything_ , but she still didn't believe him. Did she ever trust him? He knew he had a… colorful past, but never once had he given her any reason to doubt him. Yet as soon as he'd left, she'd just… let him. Had she been relieved?

Watching him as he paced outside the car, she stifled back her cry. Her cheeks ached enough, her eyes burned, everything hurt from her fight with that doppelgänger asshole, and all she wanted was sleep. He wasn't as angry as she thought he'd be, but that anger was replaced with disappointment and she wasn't sure which was worse. She always knew he'd loved her in some way, but just because she'd known it didn't mean she'd accepted it. She was far less than what he was capable of having, but anytime she'd broached the subject he'd always just shot it down. It made sense, the idea of her feeling that way was so preposterous to him that he wanted to shove it out of her mind, but it had never really left. Letting her body relax against the side of the door, she watched as Gabriel began talking to with Sam. His little smile alone was enough to brighten her mood, even if only for a moment.

When he climbed into the back seat once more, she cowered deeply into the corner. He looked over at her and she again, refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the pavement as Dean started the drive back to Kansas. She knew she was safe for now, Gabriel wouldn't do anything with the Winchesters here. As theatrical as he was, he appreciated privacy at all the right times, this being one of them. As the scenery became monotonous, she found herself falling to sleep, the day's events finally catching up with her. When her head lolled back against the old, worn leather, she was a goner.

One hill climbed, another one to go. Every time he felt like he was winning, another block showed up smack in the middle of the road. She thought he didn't want her. After some of his anger had subsided, he wondered what he'd done to fail her so deeply that she would anticipate him walking out on her. He always knew she didn't think the best of herself, but he'd always told her that her supposed shortcomings were all in her own head. She loved him, he knew that. She'd come immediately when Sam had called her, she'd walked into that room not out of obligation, it was because she loved him. He was going to cling to that until it was ripped from his cold, dead hands.

When he turned his head to look at her, to tell her that he loved her still, he found her chin tucked to her chest, passed out cold. Her head lolled side to side with the sway of the car and even to him that looked terribly uncomfortable. Gently, he guided her down by her shoulders, laying her head in his lap hoping to save her from a sore neck in a few hours. His fingers found their way into her hair, gently combing through the tangled strands and she whimpered quietly in sleepy response. Yeah, he loved her, always would. Finally now up close, he could see the damages of her time with Loki. The bruise under her eyes was darkening, there were welts on her wrists from what he assumed were his hands and the little cut on her neck was scabbed over. His own guilt washed through him as the realization that those were only there because of her association with him dawned on him. They were both disasters.

Three hours later, Dean pulled into a Gas n' Sip, the loss of the engine's rumble rousing Liv from her sleep. Whatever she was laying on was warm, the comforting ministrations in her hair keeping her in a relaxed state. This was nice. It smelled familiar, old leather mixed with arid… Her eyes shot open. When she realized where she was, she jolted upright, immediately running her hands over her hair smoothing it back down. Gabriel looked back at her, shocked by her sudden exit, his hand still in his lap where her head had just been,

"Sorry… must have…" she stammered, unable to get the rest of the words out.

Her feet couldn't carry her away fast enough. She burst out of the car and beelined straight for the bathroom, her lungs going into overdrive as she gasped for air. Gabriel followed her out of the car, watching sadly as she ran to the bathroom, leaning his body back against the car.

"So, what's going on? Everything okay?" Sam asked, pulling the gasp pump from the car.

"Peachy keen," Gabriel responded, "how much longer 'til we're back?"

"Halfway there. Look,I know there's something going on but-"

"Save it."

Gabriel took off in the direction of the store, he knew she needed something to eat, water at a minimum. As he wandered around the store, half listening to Dean flirting with the cashier, he wondered if his life would ever go back to normal. Ever since he'd been back it had just been disaster after disaster and he was ready to call it. Maybe head back into hiding, go sit for a few hundred years and hit the reset button.

"Add these to his tab," Gabriel instructed, throwing a water, a coke and a three musketeers bar onto the counter in front of Dean, effectively interrupting his playful banter, "We're together."

Gabriel smirked, wrapping his arm around Dean's shoulders, earning him an eye roll as Dean shrugged his arm off. The bell to the door rang and Gabriel's heart jumped as it always did when she entered a room. Her eyes fell to him at the register and again she continued with her sheepish approach. Was she afraid of him? He walked over to her, stopping just far enough way to where he thought she'd be comfortable, holding out the things he'd gotten for her.

"Did I get it right?" he asked tenderly, his confusion and sadness evident.

Nodding, she thanked him, taking the items from his outstretched hand as she wondered what was going through his mind. Did he hate her now? He should. As they walked out, a very grumpy Dean following behind them, Gabriel held the door for her, carefully keeping his arm from grazing her shoulder. He had no idea how to fix this.

The rest of the drive was in silence, Dean's same twelve songs on repeat through the entire three hours. The pair in the back sat miles apart, both wishing for the same thing but too afraid to act. His arms seemed a perfect home as she remembered them. The way he held her as tight as he could, molding her body into all the right places of his to keep his embrace as tight as it could be. The little jokes, I love you's and sweet nothings he would whisper to get her to laugh or smile made a little grin settle upon her face. She remembered dancing in motel room kitchens at midnight, days spent in bed watching soap reruns and eating anything her heart desired, and fingers that knew how to move against her like they were made just for her.

When they reached the bunker, she was the first inside. Castiel had already arrived home and the relief that settled in her chest when she saw the tan trench coat overcame all other emotions, even if only for a moment. She ran to him, burying herself in his chest, trying to keep the tears away at least until she was safely hidden in her room. Gabriel was next, having ran after her, he'd waited three hours in hopes of getting her alone for the conversation he knew they needed to have. The sight before him however only sent a pang of jealousy straight to his heart. There she was, already comfortable in the arms of his brother. He knew they were friends, hell he'd been thankful for it, but it was his arms he wanted her encircled with. He respected her wishes, walking off in the direction of the library as Castiel watched him with cautious eyes, no doubt afraid of his archangel brother's anger. Gabriel wasn't angry, however. If anything, he hoped maybe Cas would have an idea on how to help him fix it, but it didn't stop the nostalgia of his face in her hair, smelling that coconut shampoo he loved so much as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.

"What happened?" Castiel asked as Dean and Sam entered the bunker.

"We got Gabriel, we open that rift tomorrow," Dean recounted, "everything else is secondary."

Gabriel could hear the conversation from his seat at the table, secondary his ass. Dean seemed to be forgetting it was his grace that was necessary for his little spell and he'd be damned if he walked over into Apocalypse land without having every detail of his relationship figured out first. Whether it was continuing or ending, it was being settled before he went and risked his life for those boys again. He'd be damn sure of it.


	11. Chapter 11

The confines of the bunker were almost suffocating. The walls seemed like they were closing in tighter and tighter as each minute ticked by on the clock, but Gabriel refused to leave. As much as his brain screamed for five minutes of fresh air, something about walking out that door seemed wrong. He was certain she wanted nothing to do with him, she'd practically ignored him since he'd shoved that blade through Loki's gut. Had something else happened? Had Loki told her other things about him, things she couldn't forgive? He thought he'd covered it all, he was always transparent with who he'd been, but that wasn't to say there weren't a few things he was keeping to himself.

He'd come to terms with her own confession, he knew it was something she never had any intention of sharing with him. That fact hurt more than the secret itself. He'd always wanted to be her safe haven, and for awhile he believed he was, but she was ashamed of herself and no doubt fearful of his response. Deep down he knew that those emotions weren't completely caused by him but on the things in her past he couldn't change and the way they'd morphed her psyche and responses. Loving her had never been hard, but it also wasn't always easy. She was a pressurized bottle of emotion that never let loose, besides occasional slips where just enough steam blew out to shove the cork back in. He just wanted to free her, of everything. Her guilt, her self-consciousness, the way she doubted every emotion she felt. He just wanted her to feel validated and loved, it was all he'd ever tried to do, and he felt like he'd failed.

"Didn't expect to find you in here," Sam observed as he entered the room, taking a seat across from Gabriel, who remained silent, "You should go talk to her."

"Oh thank you, Captain Obvious, for your wise and unsolicited advice. She wants nothing to do with me," Gabriel barked in response. Hearing his own voice say that final phrase almost made him sick.

"That's not true."

Gabriel shot Sam an angry glare. What did he know? Nothing. Sam hadn't heard her that night he'd left two weeks ago, he hadn't seen the look in her eyes as she knelt at Loki's feet or the fear when she hadn't been expecting him in that store just hours before. The list of harms that had come her way because of their association was only getting longer every passing day he was around. Maybe he was just a curse, he had been on everyone else, why did he expect her to be so different? Even if she did want him back, was it even a good idea? Perhaps Loki had been right, he was going to lead her right to her death. Maybe she was better off without him.

"Gabe?" her soft, tear laden voice sounded from behind him, sinking his heart to his stomach.

Sam's eyes quickly averted to her slumped form at the end of table. She looked exhausted, downtrodden, like she was one tear away from giving up completely. With a small smile Sam closed his book, leaving the two alone, giving Liv's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he walked off to his room.

"Hey," Gabriel greeted, keeping his back to her, "you should get some sleep. Long day."

It was hard to keep his eyes locked on his pointer finger flicking his thumb, to keep from running and gathering her into his arms, but somehow he managed. He couldn't take one more melancholy look from her without wanting to shove a knife through his heart. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd be better, but tonight, there wasn't enough of himself to give.

As she stared at the back of his head, she couldn't help but remember waking up to those unruly golden curls between her fingers. She wondered if maybe it was finally time to bury the hope that those days would live on again.

"Yeah… good night," she whispered sadly, her hope that he'd be following her back to the bedroom falling away.

The sound of her boots on the concrete floor grew fainter as Gabriel crunched his eyes shut, his heart aching. He wasn't sure what was worse, this, or the torture at the hands of Asmodeus. At least in hell he'd anticipated his pain and suffering, but this was a torment of it's own excruciating breed.

"You're an idiot," a surly, deep voice grumbled from the hallway, Dean had no doubt just passed a very somber looking Liv on her way back to bed.

"Takes one to know one," Gabriel snapped in response as the hunter took the seat at the table Sam had been minutes before.

"She just suffered. For you. Because of you-"

"You think I don't know that?"

"Well you don't seem to care."

"Don't tell me I don't care. You have no fucking clue how I feel."

"Sure about that?"

Gabriel's eyes shot over to the man across from him and he was shocked by the pain etched into the normally stoic features. He softened his gaze as he looked at Dean, quelling the anger slightly as he waited for him to continue.

"I've been in your shoes," Dean went on, "You think she'd be better off without you. That she deserves more, someone else will be able to take better care of her than you ever could. That no one like her could love you anyway, so what's the point?"

"It's true, isn't it?" Gabriel asked, masking the fact that Dean had read him like a book, "I'm just a selfish, winged prick, right?"

"Yeah Gabe, you are. But that girl loves you. Only God knows why, but she does. She's been fighting for you since Ketch dumped you on us. And I think you love her too, a whole lot. Trust me when I say, don't give her up. Don't. 'Cause once you do what I know you're thinking about doing, there's no going back. And it ain't right, and it ain't fair. You need to let her decide."

"She'll make the wrong choice."

She'd choose him.

"Yeah she will," Dean affirmed, "but it's hers to make, not yours."

It would have been a lie if Gabriel had tried to tell Dean he was wrong. That the thought of walking into that bedroom and wiping her memory clean of him hadn't passed his mind, because it had. While he knew he didn't have the courage to do it (he needed her just as much as she needed him and he was selfish, after all) the thought had tempted him.

"There's other ways to keep her safe," Dean assured, as he slid a tumbler of whiskey across the table, "I promise you, there are."

"I'll help you," Gabriel promised, shooting back his glass in one pass, "but I do this, and you forget I exist. I'm gone."

"Yeah, deal, whatever you say."

"And you forget she exists too. You leave her out of every other shit storm you two idiots get yourselves stuck in."

"Won't she be with you?"

Gabriel scoffed, knowing Dean was only fishing for the conclusion of the conversation they'd been having, that Gabriel would at least leave her memory bank intact.

"Well, this heartfelt chat has made me a little nauseous, and quite frankly, isn't anything I ever want to do again. So next time you need to let off some feels, go cozy up with my little bro, yeah? He likes you way more than I do," Gabriel teased, rising to his feet.

Dean smiled, a small chuckle breathing out from his nose, "Yeah, you're welcome."

While he couldn't say the words, Gabriel looked at the hardened hunter with a grateful gaze. He'd never admit it, but he had helped slightly. As exhausted as he was, she was still worth fighting for, even if meant fighting himself, or fate herself. He'd spend eternity jumping from place to place if meant keeping her safe from anything and everything. She wanted farmers markets and long walks on the beach, and he'd be sure she got them, even if she didn't want it with him.

"Oh and uh, sorry about that whole Mystery Spot thing…" Gabriel atoned as he walked from the room.

"No you're not," Dean implied, his eyes filled with amused doubt.

"No. I'm not. Good night."

There was only one place he wanted to be, but he was still unsure if he was welcome. His feet carried him through the dimly lit hall and he was shocked to see the one room with the door slightly ajar. He remembered it instantly, the black Enochian words he'd written along the walls barely visible through the crack in the door. He lingered outside, a little of his doubt washing away. He knew this room must have brought her a lot of pain, but she'd chosen it anyway. When she'd cursed him for leaving, she'd been surrounded by him still, just as this small piece of him had been with her when she recovered from her vampire attack. He recalled the way it felt to see her again, after all those years, inside those four walls. The gentle touch of her fingertips on him, the way she'd pulled him from that darkness in a way only she could.

There was only silence as he built up the courage to enter, no soft cries or angry sobs. He pushed the door open slowly and he knew the sight that would be waiting for him, but it had done nothing to prepare him. She was curled up in the middle of the unmade bed, her knees tucked to her chest just as she did every time she cried herself to sleep. He wondered how many nights had ended like this, freezing and exhausted, her body and mind just giving out after so long. Gently he pulled her up the mattress, laying her head on the pillow as she slowly stretched out her contracted limbs. She remained asleep, a small whimper falling from her lips as he covered her with the thick quilt that had been balled at the foot of the bed. Again, that little sound escaped as she pulled the blanket up over the bottom of her face, turning to her side as she snuggled into a now comfortable position. He didn't belong here, not yet. With one soft sweep of his fingers he brushed the hair from her face, gingerly tucking it behind her ear. Tomorrow, he'd fix this once and for all.

When she woke the next morning, she wasn't sore and achy like she knew she should be. The bed was warm, the fabric covering her soft. She knew she didn't fall asleep like this. She was positive. The last thing she remembered was sobbing into her hands over yet again being alone in bed, yet this time hurting even more as the one person she wished to share it with sat right down the hall. She knew herself well enough to know without any doubt she'd fallen asleep in the middle of that bed, just as she had for countless nights before. Had he come in? Tucked her into bed like he always had before, except his time, he hadn't curled up behind her.

Quickly, she leapt from the mattress and put her shoes back on. She needed coffee, she needed air and space and everything that this underground bunker did not have. She was thankful for the sink inside the room, brushing her teeth, running her hands over her knotted hair and throwing it into a plastic clip before running from the room, passing the four occupants of the bunker standing around the mapped table without even a glance.

Gabriel watched sadly as she ran up the stairs before throwing the metal door open and slamming it shut. Every time he thought he would have an opportunity, it was just as quickly squashed. Castiel looked at his brother, his eyes full of pity. He hadn't gotten much out of Liv the day before, but he knew that they were both feeling the same about the other, and how wrong they both were.

"You two need to figure this out," Dean scolded, "We don't need any extra baggage."

"Oh yeah? So where are you storing all yours then?" Gabriel retorted, his tone dripping with venom.

"Just.. go talk to her, or stow it. One or the other. This is a one time shot and I'm not risking it over some lovesick archangel."

With a quick wave of his finger, Gabriel sent the contents of Dean's mug pouring down his shirt. The hunter jumped as the shock of his scalding hot coffee soaking in through his thin t-shirt to his skin caused him to leap from his seat. His eyes glared angrily as they followed Gabriel as he walked up the stairs, intent on finding where Liv had run off to. Dean was right, it was time to settle this.

It was easy to track her after all these years, it was like following a trail laid out just for him to follow. He wasn't surprised when that path ended at a cozy coffee shop in the small center of Lebanon, her car parked right outside the quaint café. He gazed from a distance at first. He could see her through the window, her head hung low, eyes never lifting from the cheap metal table she sat at. She was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, morose or not. He felt as if his grace itself was reaching out to her, begging to feel her again, needing her in a more desperate way then he'd ever known before.

Before he knew it, he'd opened the old glass door into the building, the jingling of the bell attached the handle not even registering with her, chin still tucked to her chest. His throat went dry as he closed the distance between them. Here it was, the moment that would define the rest of his life.

"Never took you for a whiskey kind of girl…" his voice quavered as he watched her pour some of her flask into the mug before her.

Her throat tightened in on itself as she pushed back her tears, she wasn't ready for this, "You thought coming here to find me… was a good idea?" she sputtered, "I always penned you for a little stupid, but never suicidal."

"I have a proposition for you."

As her heart shattered into a million pieces inside the cage of her chest, she turned to look at him. His face was soft, his hands in his pockets as he gazed longingly at her.

"I wanna take you out…" he continued, his voice quiet.

Tears exploded from her eyes and for the first time in her life she didn't care that the room full of people around her could see. The memories of that first night rushed into her mind, the way he'd made her feel, the things he'd shown her that had been deep down inside of her all along, but only he'd been able to bring to life.

"We've played cat and mouse for years now… time we bury the hatchet, no?" Gabriel continued to recite, the words falling from his lips like a long memorized play.

"Cat and mouse… like I want you gone… not become… the bride.. of Dracula," she stammered, she could barely get the words out through her sob-choked throat.

"To-may-toe, to-mah-toe."

As she tried to regulate her breathing, her eyes stayed locked on him. His hair was a mess, his face hopeful, yet filled with as much despair and longing as she knew hers was, the cut on his cheek already gone, his face as flawless as ever.

"What's in it for me?" Liv choked, finally beginning to feel her bearings come back the longer he was near.

"Besides an evening filled with whatever your heart desires? If at the end of this save the world mission, you want me gone… I'll leave. And you'll never see me again," he promised, the words fighting to stay behind his teeth as he feared her answer.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll put a shiny little ring on that finger, marry your temperamental ass and whisk you off to whatever corner of the globe you want to call our own."

That wasn't what either one of them had been expecting. Her eyes grew wide at his words, mouth hanging open in shock as relief settled into his stomach. He'd finally said it, the thing he'd been thinking for over a decade. He knew it held no bearing in a traditional sense, but damn if he didn't want to give himself over to her in every way he knew possible. He'd even wear a stupid ring himself if it meant that she was his until their dying days.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" Liv asked, playing along with his reenactment, but also feeling like this had to be one.

"You don't. But it's worth a shot, no? Sweetheart, I've loved you for a long time," Gabriel pleaded as he grabbed her mug to take a sip, trying to ease his nervous tongue, but as the liquid hit his lips his face contorted, "is there any coffee in this?"

Finally she smiled and he swore the room got brighter. "Not anymore, " she laughed through her tears, "they don't make it right."

There was no force from heaven, hell, or anything in between that would change the love she felt for the man before her. He'd always been and always would be, the end for her. He was everything her heart needed, and safety and home. He was grinning now, lopsided and gentle, his stance slightly more relaxed. How such a powerful, unmatchable being would even give her a passing glance was still unknown to her, but she knew it was time to accept it.

"Well, I can do something about that, ya know," he cooed, raising an eyebrow in that way she'd never get enough of.

She watched as he walked off, her eyes following him to the counter and she found herself unable to look away. Somehow, he was here again. After everything, her heart felt like it was mending. He returned moments later with two new mugs, finally sliding into the seat across from her, setting what nerves she still had at ease. They were doing this, it would seem. She had the chance to fix it. Quickly, he made her coffee just as she liked, but then added the tiniest pinch of salt to the mug before stirring it all together.

" _That's_ how you do it?" she questioned excitedly.

"That's it," he quipped as he passed the cup her way, "of course, that doesn't apply to homemade. That's my little secret."

It was perfect, just as it always was.

"I know you heard what I said that night you left," she confessed, needing to relieve the guilt, needing him to forgive everything.

"I did," he responded, his voice quiet as he recalled that night in the crypt.

"And now you know I didn't look for you."

With steady eyes he kept his gaze locked gently on her. He knew this was difficult, and while he wanted to tell her it wasn't necessary, he knew this was a big deal. That she needed to do this for herself. As silence settled between them, he could feel the guilt radiating from her soul, thick and heavy. While he wanted to take the reins and assure her all was fine, he waited for her next words, only nodding to acknowledge her statement.

"So why are you even here?" she finally blurted out, gaze finally faltering from his.

That answer was easy.

"Because I love you," he concluded, firmly and without a trace of hesitation in his voice.

Those four words said more than a thousand others ever could. Simple and concise, they pushed through every barricade blocking him away. This was it, he'd chosen her again just like she had him. As her heart slowed back to a normal pace, she knew deep down that it was his to do what he pleased with. That's the thing about love, it's surrendering yourself to someone and trusting them to keep you whole, to help you be better than you were when they found you. He'd mended pieces she hadn't even known were broken yet broken, things she didn't know she'd had, but there was discovery there. New emotions, new sensations, the world was a different place when he was around, and it was a world she preferred. If she had another heart, she'd have let him break that one too if it still led her here.

"I still should have tried…" she maintained, why she was still trying to convince him away she couldn't explain, "you deserve better."

"I beg to differ," Gabriel remarked, watching as she began to shake her head, "I don't want to fight anymore, Liv."

Not with her, not with Demi-Gods or angels or demons, not against himself or his father's expectations. He just wanted to live. It had been millennia and he was tired, he could feel it in his bones. A heavy weariness that never ceased, bogging him down like there was a brick attached to his ankle. The only relief he'd felt was sitting across from him now, staring blankly at something right behind him as her bottom lip quivered. For so long, he'd been holding himself together, and now he knew without reasonable doubt that it was impossible for him to do alone anymore. He needed help, he needed her.

"We have to help Sam and Dean," she lamented, reaching across the table and grabbing his fingers in a reassuring gesture, squeezing as she directed her attention back to him.

"I know," he answered, running his thumb over her knuckles, "but after that?"

She smiled, his warmth washing through her as she felt herself opening her heart to him again, "Somewhere quiet… and private… and warm," she began, her mind wandering to all the places he'd taken her so many years ago.

"Mmm, I like the sound of this so far…"

"Beaches. And good food. Somewhere your eyes will glow in the sunset and a beard…"

"A beard?"

"Yeah. I want to see you with a beard. Nothing crazy, just, a little something.

"I'll grow you a beard, but what do I get in return?"

"What do you want?"

There it was again, that mesmerizing little eyebrow tick that had always kept her on her toes. He was mischievous, unpredictable and a little wild, and she loved him for it. His lack of inhibition had certainly loosened many of her own and she couldn't wait to see what broke free when she was finally released from her self-appointed duties. As she stared at him from across the table, it suddenly dawned on her that he was much too far away, and had been for too long. She saw so much of her Gabriel from ten years ago in the person in front of her now. Clearly, his revenge mission hadn't been for nothing.

As she rose from her chair, she kept her hand locked around his, pulling him up with her before guiding him out the door to her old car parked out front. Almost all of their doubts were left behind at that rusted, tin table, but not all of them. She turned to face him, her eyes sparkling in the sun, and he couldn't help as his arm snaked around her lower back and pulled her body into his. She didn't look away, she didn't even blink. His free hand came to her chin, his thumb and pointer finger gently tipping her chin up towards his. This was it, everything he'd hoped for, everything he'd begged and pleaded with anyone who was listening to give him. He wasn't going to fuck up this time. The past had been careless, guided by a false sense of invincibility and heightened self-importance. Now, he wasn't going to take one second for granted, because it very well could be the final one.

"I love you, you know," he whispered, still too afraid to kiss her, afraid of her reaction or rejection.

"Did you save me?" she mumbled, her fingers fiddling with the zipper of his jacket, "From those vampires?"

"'Course I did."

Her eyes fluttered closed as his confirmation settled what lingering unease she still felt. He'd always been listening, even after her terrible monologue during her first night at the bunker. He'd saved her, again, no doubt risking himself in the process.

She sighed, "Promise me one thing," as she reached up and curled her fingers into his hair, pulling his face within an inch of her own.

"Anything," he breathed, the proximity to her testing the boundaries of his self-control.

"Stay with me."

The tone of her plea was almost foreign to her. It was desperate and pathetic, not something she felt very often. Something about him made her weak, but whatever vulnerability he opened up in her sent a new kind of strength surging through her. Not the kind she needed to fight the monsters that went bump in the night. No, it was the kind that kicked out the ones hiding in the recesses of her own brain and challenged them head on. The kind of strength that made her remember who she used to be, who she wanted to be.

"Deal," he promised, his breath warm on her lips, "but you gotta do something for me too."

"Okay," she stuttered, her eyes snapping shut.

"Trust me. Don't push me away in that complicated little head of yours anymore. You need to accept that I don't find you as insufferable as you think you are. And fucking look for me if I go missing. Please."

While he meant for the last part of his request to be a joke, he watched as her face contorted with guilt once again. That was going to take a little while to get over, he realized. He was certain nothing he could say was going to ease her of that burden. The only thing that would heal that wound was time, and he had all the time in the world to spare.

Finally, he closed the distance between them and firmly captured her lips with his own, his hand moving from under her chin to her cheek as his arm around her body pulled her impossibly closer. The audible groan of relief that she breathed into his mouth was like a drug, knowing that he alone could pull that kind of response from her was intoxicating. There was nothing gentle about the way they moved against one another, it was desperate and searching and nowhere near enough. All that angry longing she'd kept pent up was releasing into him now as she pulled and tugged on every surface she could reach.

"I'm sorry," she panted as they stopped for air, noses still pressed together.

"Me too," he replied.

"Forgive me?"

"Yep. Still love me?"

"Yep."

"Then that's all that matters."

Less frantic now, she pressed her lips back to his, their hands relaxing as their fears of losing one other started to vanish. This was real, it was now, and somehow this felt different. There was no where for him to go but here, not anymore. She felt it, too; she could tell there was no restraint or worry in his actions. No lingering doubt that he may leave remained, all the anxiety from their first reunited outing was gone. They'd fought for each other, and won.

"Let's go," he urged, reaching a hand into her jacket pocket to pull out her keys.

As he climbed into the driver's seat, he couldn't help the bubble of excitement that lit up his face, one more task and they were free. She'd clearly already been thinking about it and he chuckled to himself as her request for a beard replayed in his head. That would be interesting.

The drive back to the bunker was too long, even though it was only twenty minutes outside of town, their anticipation grew with each passing mile. When they finally pulled up they both leapt from the car, hands finding each other immediately. He kissed her through the threshold, swallowing her giggles down as he guided her through the doorway, the metal stairs clanging under their feet. It drew the attention of the two men in the library, both running with guns drawn to find the source of the noise.

"Hey! Hey!" Dean scolded, his face twisting in disgust, earning him a hand of disregard from the angel, "No thank you! You have a room, _right_ down the hall. Please… _use_ it by all means."

"Well you're no fun," Gabriel chided as he separated himself from her, "I know you watched my Casa Erotica in full length, Dean, no need to be shy now."

Dean's eyes rolled as Gabriel grabbed Liv's hands and guided her down the stairs and past the two men, winking as he went. As the couple passed, Sam eyed his brother questioningly with a small smirk.

"Did you?" Sam asked, fighting back his laughter.

"What?! No! Of course not!" Dean yelled back defensively, turning to walk away.

"He so did!" Gabriel called from the doorway of the bedroom Liv had taken up during her time there before closing the door behind him.

Liv clambered up onto the bed, sitting back on her heels as she waited for him to follow her in. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she watched him teasing Dean from the hallway, the thrill of being with him sending mini shockwaves through her entire body. He looked so good in that jacket and tight, thin shirt, his jeans hugging him in all the right places. She felt like a teenager again, overcome with desire and nerves. That first night together hadn't been like their previous, it was more reacquainting, therapeutic almost as he readjusted to life outside the confines of his tortures. She wanted _him_ again, the things he'd done and the ways he'd made her feel had always been unmatched. She finally seemingly had him back and she'd be damned if he wasn't keeping him.

"You're a work of art, sweetheart," he praised, sliding his jacket from his shoulders.

"I'm a mess, half drunk at 11 AM, pretty sure no one's looking at me," she chastised, furrowing her eyebrows but still smiling.

Gabriel clicked his tongue, "More for me then. Come here."

Quickly, she leapt from the bed to stand in front of him, her eagerness very apparent and it made him laugh. Sometimes she was so inherently pure it made him forget how deadly she could be. This was definitely one of those moments. His hands instantly came to her shoulders, running down the length of her arms before sliding over at her waist, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. Enough time had been wasted already, and he was just as eager as she was. As her arms were coming back down from above her head, she pulled the plastic clip holding her hair in place, letting the messy brown waves fall down around her face and shoulders. His breath caught in his throat, she was one of the only things that had ever left him completely speechless.

Slowly, he leant in and pressed his lips to hers, her arms circling around his neck loosely as she returned his kiss, her smile growing with each peck and brush. As his hands danced along her torso, he again ran his hands along the raised skin of scars and keloids that were scattered along her skin. He knew she hated them, but he didn't. His mouth traveled downwards, following the path from her jaw, to her neck, down the valley of her chest until he was forced to his knees to continue. He kept his eyes locked on her face, reveling in the way her mouth fell open slightly as her breathing grew heavier. Never in his life had he ever felt so wanted. Thumbs dug into her hips now as he continued his showering of physical praise along her stomach.

"What're you doing?" she laughed, his lips tickling her slightly.

"Reacquainting," he exhaled, dragging his nose along her skin as he responded.

When he pulled his eyes from hers to look at the part of her that was directly in front of him, he explored the new bumps and pink lines. He ran his fingers over each one, his lips following behind them. Her chest constricted as she bent to hug his head, it was awkward but she didn't care. She buried her face in his hair as she fought back her tears, every other being on this planet would have been taken aback by her hacked appearance, but he _cherished_ it. He worshipped it, making every one of her flaws seem like a damn treasure.

Finally, she fell to her knees and met his affections with her own. She grabbed his face in her hands and pulled him back to hers, her kisses harder and filled with intent. He could feel the one tear that had escaped onto her cheek pressing into his, and he brought his thumb between them to wipe it away, cradling her face with his palm. They stayed like that, kneeling on the hard stone floor, too enraptured with the other to even care where they were. It felt like a decade had separated them from their last time. Even though they'd been together since, it wasn't like this.

"You're wearing too many clothes," she whined, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

"Well do something about it then," he challenged, helping her by undoing the buckle of his belt.

In one quick motion she ripped his shirt from his head, standing as she did and he followed. They fumbled with each other's jeans, giving up and removing their own themselves before clashing back together. Her skin was cool against his, but she was the farthest thing from on the inside. It felt like molten lava was running through her veins as his chest pressed against hers, she didn't even care how desperate she seemed now. He pushed her gently onto the bed, climbing up in front of her before leaning forward and guiding her down to her back, his lips devouring hers again as her head hit the pillow. One hand slipped down between them, his fingertips barely brushing against her, her skin erupting into goosebumps at his feathering touch.

His breath was shaky as he exhaled loudly through his mouth, his whole body was trembling in response to finally being here, and doing this again. She responded immediately when his fingers began rubbing lazy circles over that bundle of nerves he was so well acquainted with. He knew just the pace and pressure she needed, even after all these years. She groaned as his finger dipped inside of her, gripping his elbow tightly holding him in place as he dragged slowly in and out. Her mouth was hung open as choked gasps escaped, he knew he hadn't been able to give her what she'd needed two weeks ago, but he was making up for it now.

"Gabe," she sputtered, wrapping a leg around his back and pushing him towards her, he knew what it meant.

Obeying her wish, he leaned up and guided himself into her, sinking in slowly until his hips were flush with hers. It was his turn to groan now as she surrounded him, it never got old. She responded with a sloppy, teeth clashing kiss, her tongue shooting into his mouth as she began lightly jerking her hips, urging him to move. He did, craving that friction just as much as she was, craving everything that was _her_.

Slowly, he ran his hand down her thigh before grabbing behind her knee and turning her to her side, him mirroring her position in front of her. The new angle caused her mouth to hang open in a silent scream, breathless and blissed. He was moving against her perfectly, hitting every spot she needed touched simultaneously and she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this good. His mouth teased at her lips and throat, nipping ever so slightly as her own were unable to respond to his ministrations, and it was only riling her faster.

Gabriel was in awe of the perfection writhing in his arms, her responsiveness to every brush of his fingertips, every pass of his mouth against hers. He drank down every sound and fulfilled every twitch and physical plea as he worked her further and further towards release. When it hit, he gazed in complete reverence and wonder, still somehow unable to believe that he even got to have this with her. That out of everyone in the world she chose him, again and again.

"I could watch that all day," he sighed as she floated down from her high, the euphoric look on her face rousing him even more.

She laughed, her eyes still closed, "Shut up."

"Not bein' funny. Watching you ride that high I put you in… you're filthier than the seven deadly sins combined. And I would know, I think I'm the root of a few of 'em."

Her laugh filled the room as he rolled her to her back again, his own body demanding movement. She wrapped herself around him, staring up at him with eyes of adoration as he began pushing into her again, this time a little harder, more determined as he chased his own end.

"I'd tear apart Heaven and Earth for you," he confessed, burying his face into her neck.

She was already in an emotionally vulnerable state and his words reverberated through her, his vowing devotions only sending her deeper into it. Her brain wasn't working right, everything was short-circuiting as he clouded every one of her senses. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, her body heightening again as his pace grew more erratic, more desperate.

"Tell me I'm yours," he pleaded, his breath hot against her neck.

"Fuck…" she whimpered, barely able to form a coherent thought, "always."

It wasn't enough, she knew that, but it was all she could muster and she hoped he understood. Of course he did, and he groaned in relief as the panicked thought that she was done with him finally disappeared. This was it, forever now. He sat back onto his heels, wanting to see her fully before this was over.

"I can't…" he faltered, she knew he was losing control.

Liv arched her back just enough to change the angle to help him find his release, and he did, throwing his head back in ecstasy as he gave in to her completely. The grip on her hips softened and his chest heaved as he stilled, his chin dropping to his chest as he tried to regulate.

"Got your groove back huh?" she raved, running her hand along his chest.

"Think so," he agreed, leaning down to plant messy, exhausted kisses along her neck, "I mean… that was pretty good."

"That was good."

For the first time since she could remember she laughed from deep within her chest, unbridled and genuine. She could feel his own hot against her chest as his forehead was pressed against her, his head tucked under her chin. With a regretful groan, he pulled himself from her and collapsed beside her on his stomach, his arm draped over her stomach and his face nuzzled softly into her neck. She wrapped her arm around him, fingers drawing lazy shapes on his back, holding him close as his warmth and familiar embrace almost immediately lulled her to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Gabriel woke an hour later, cradled gently in the arms of the one thing he'd ever loved. He was finally here. After years of fighting to survive, scratching, clawing and searching for a way out, he was home. Her arm was wrapped around his neck and his face was still buried in her hair, the gentle scent of coconut coaxing a serene sense of nostalgia through him. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign she was deep in a comfortable sleep and as much as he didn't want to move, he knew he had to. Slowly, he wriggled free of her grip, making sure to pull the blanket up and around her as he moved. She didn't even budge and a self-satisfied smirk fell onto his face.

He emerged from the room, quietly clicking the door closed behind him, and headed towards the common area where at least the brothers would be waiting. He knew Dean was eager to leave, to get started on the journey to Apocalypse Land, but they still needed his grace. The thought of having to extract what little he had left in him sent a panic straight to his chest. He couldn't do it, not himself, not alone. There was only one person he trusted to have any part in that, and she was passed out in that room down the hall.

"Where's Liv?" Dean asked as Gabriel entered the library, his bag already packed and waiting at his feet.

"Sleeping," Gabriel responded nonchalantly.

"Sleeping? It's noon. What'd you do, screw her into a coma?"

"Uh… isn't that the goal? It concerns me that this occurrence seems foreign to you."

Sam's eyebrows raised as he choked back a laugh. He'd never admit it, but having Gabriel around was sort of entertaining. He certainly gave Dean a run for his money, he thought, as he watched as his brother's expression changed from shocked, to confused, to angry then ending on a little embarrassed. Gabriel's, on the other hand, stayed in smug amusement, his head tilted to one side as he smirked.

"You'll get there, kid. Keep practicing. Remember, it's not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean. But it doesn't hurt to have both," Gabriel taunted, tucking his lips into his mouth in pity as he gave Dean a pat on the back on his way past.

As Gabriel found a seat at the end of the table, he couldn't help but notice the intuitive and intrigued little grin set upon the tiny red-headed witch's lips two seats down. He felt her eyes burning into him and his eyes darted around in confusion mixed with a little bit of guilt.

"We need your grace," Dean informed the angel, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gabriel's stomach dropped. He knew he wasn't ready, he didn't think he ever would be. For a thousand years he'd played celestial juice box to Colonel Sanders and the thought of that needle piercing his neck again was nightmare inducing. He tried to shove those memories away as they fought to break loose of the confines he had sloppily locked them away in, trying to replace them with the sound of her voice and the touch of her fingers. Sam noticed the sudden change in Gabriel's demeanor, but if Dean had, he wasn't acknowledging it. He tossed the large metal syringe down in front of the angel carelessly, and it only angered Gabriel further.

"I need her," Gabriel confessed, rising to his feet in any attempt to get as far away from that device as he could.

"So go wake her ass up and get it done," Dean demanded.

"No."

The angel kept his voice and gaze hard as he stared at the man no more than twelve inches away from him. He was quickly tiring of this charade and every piece of him wanted to take Liv and walk out that door to leave them to figure this out on their own. All he'd ever done was give to them without ever receiving a damn thing in return. He knew he had to try and get along with them, but all he could think about at the moment was a thousand new ways to off Dean in another Groundhog Day loop.

"I don't know where you got this asinine idea that you can order me around like I'm one of your little soldiers, Dean, but I recommend re-evaluating it. We do this when I say so. Understood?" Gabriel's voice was almost sinister as he spoke, stepping threateningly closer to the eldest Winchester as he stared.

Dean's face hardened, but the slightest hint of fear crossed over his features. Even powered down, Dean knew he was no match for the archangel; he had no choice but to surrender. Gabriel knew Liv probably hadn't gotten any form of quality sleep since the last time she'd been in bed with him, and if she needed an hour or two she was going to get it. Plus, there was one thing he had to do before they set off.

Dean watched with fury burning behind his eyes as Gabriel grabbed the syringe from the table before he walked up the steps and out of the bunker. Why they had gotten stuck with the most unreliable being to ever walk the Earth as their only hope was beyond him. While deep down he was happy the unlikely couple had made amends, it was now only hindering his mission further.

Gabriel returned an hour later empty-handed and Dean wondered where the hell he'd ran off to and why. The angel didn't even share a passing glance to the four occupants of the library as he headed back down the hall to the bedrooms. He knew it was time, this had to be done. The longer he delayed doing it, the farther away the end was, and he needed this to be over for many reasons. The main one being right behind the old wooden door in front of him.

It creaked quietly as he pushed it open. She was still there, exactly in the same position he'd left her in. Her bare shoulders peeked out from underneath the quilt he'd covered her with, tempting him back to the bed and distracting him from what was to come, even if only for a moment. Gently, he curled himself back behind her, the warmth of her body comforting as his arm draped around her middle. She didn't flinch and he stilled, taking in a moment he'd been so desperate for for so long.

His lips drifted to her shoulders, dragging slowly as he kissed her exposed skin, each one moving higher and higher over her neck and jaw until he'd reached her cheek. He saw the corner of her mouth tick up into a sleepy, lopsided smile as he roused her gently, his lips mirroring hers as he continued his ministrations. The little wrinkles besides her eyes creased her skin as her smile grew and he kissed them softly, appreciating the new feature that had appeared in his absence. He was here after all this time to love the new parts of her just as much as the old, and he couldn't wait to discover them all.

"Hmm," she hummed, leaning back against him slightly, "I missed waking up like this."

"Oh yeah? Get used to it, you got a few more decades of it at least," he threatened, pulling his arm against her to roll her onto her back.

Before he could react she pushed herself up and pressed her lips to his in a firm, yet simple kiss. Her hand wound into his hair as she deepened it, somehow she knew this was it. There wasn't a sinking feeling or nerves, he could walk out that door right now and this time she knew he would be walking back through. As his hand slid from her ribs down to her hip it wasn't desperate or pleading, instead his fingertips were soft and gentle, ghosting over her skin like an old friend. Like he'd done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization, everything about being with him at this moment was effortless and easy.

"I need you to do something for me," he whispered, his voice changed, as he brushed her hair from her face.

It was time to go. Their small window was up and it was time to get back to work. She kicked herself for wasting a night, for not grabbing him and kissing him as soon as he'd stabbed that cocky prick Loki right through the stomach. What had just begun was already ending, those twelve hours she could have been here wrapped in his arms were gone.

As his eyes snapped shut, she pushed her forehead against his; she knew what was coming. They needed grace, and there was only one way to get it. Her arms wound around his neck and she guided his head into the crook of her neck, silently consoling him. This would be different. His hair was soft beneath her fingers as they drifted to his curls, scratching softly in the way she knew he loved. She was certain this was going to be hard, the memories that might resurface would linger and haunt him, but she'd be there this time. He was no longer alone.

When he pulled away she kept her arms around him until she'd been drug up into a sitting position, locking him into the safety of her embrace for every second she possibly could. The syringe was in his pocket; without ever putting his eyes on it he passed it over to her and she watched as his shoulders slumped forward. Her heart hurt as she saw the transformation before her eyes, she knew she needed to act quick to pull him free.

Quickly, she located her discarded clothes, throwing them on before running to him and grabbing his hands.

"Look at me," she instructed, "Gabe, look at me."

Her fingers squeezed his as she waited for him to respond. While she knew she couldn't be forceful, she had to get him out. Finally, his eyes rose to meet hers and she smiled, she knew Asmodeus had used her form to taunt him so she wasn't sure if any of her efforts would even be beneficial, but she had to try. Slowly, she led him to the bed, pushing him down by his shoulders to sit on the edge as she nestled herself between his knees. She was taller than him here, his head level with her chest and chin upturned as he kept his eyes on her.

Instincts guided her motions as she leaned down and kissed him. Her lips remained still, just lingering as she captured his upper lip between her own, waiting for his response. It took him a moment, but as he took in the sensations around him, he felt his chest settle. This wasn't like before. She smelled the same, her touch was soft and familiar, not a cheap carbon copy and the steady beat of her heart sang out as she hovered above him. He molded his lips to hers, accepting every thing she offered in any attempt to calm himself down. Spurred on by his returned affection, she pecked a few more soft fleeting kisses to his mouth before pulling away.

"I love you," she assured him, "are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he grumbled in response, wrapping his arm around her waist.

When the needle pierced his neck, his grip along her middle tightened as he tried to tether himself to her and her alone. His eyes snapped shut, the darkness behind them welcoming the nightmares as they broke free from the shoddy walls holding them back. Asmodeus' voice began echoing inside his head. The room grew colder. The soft surface he'd been seated on turned to stone as the horrors came to life. It'd been a ruse, he knew it had… he'd been down there all along.

"Hey, eyes on me," he heard a familiar, delicate voice call out, it sounded like it was underwater, "Gabe, open your eyes baby."

Her own anxiety began to rise as she watched him. His face was twitching, his breath coming out in erratic pants through his nose and she had no idea how to free him. She knew she couldn't remove the needle, she couldn't do this again, but she also couldn't continue with him in this state.

"Gabriel!" she called out again, bringing her free hand to his cheek, caressing the ridge with her thumb, "come back to me, come on. Get outta there."

Immediately, his eyes shot open, locking onto her concern-stricken face. It was her, really her. He was in the bunker still, in the bed he'd shared with her just that morning. He felt his muscles relax, hers following suit and he let his head fall to her chest in front of him, the tug of the needle on his neck stung as he moved.

"You're okay," she cooed, sliding the hand from his cheek to the back of his head, cradling him against her, "right?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly, "just do it."

Her thumb was frozen in the plunger, her focus solely on him. His breathing had regulated, she could feel him exhaling against her collarbone, and his shoulders had released from their contracted position. When she was certain he was fine, she began to pull her finger back, his swirling, silver grace slowly seeping into the glass vial. While she knew this was no easy feat for him, she couldn't help the swell in her chest as she shared in this extremely intimate moment with him. Just when she thought they'd done it all, here he was clinging to her as she extracted the very thing that defined him from the body that Loki had designed for him. She knew it should maybe scare her, intimidate her, that the thing she loved was actually that shining vapor her thumb was pulling at, but she knew he was so much more.

"Stop," he snapped, his hand darting to the wrist of her right arm.

"I don't think this is enough," she guessed, seeing that not even a quarter of the small vial was filled.

"It's gonna have to be. It's more potent than it looks."

Nodding, she pulled the needle from his neck and threw it down onto the nightstand behind her. When she turned her attention back to him, the tiny bead of blood forming from his puncture took her by surprise. She'd never known him to bleed outside of the past few days; she still hadn't gotten used to it. Quickly, she pressed her thumb against the spot, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. While she fretted, he pulled her face to his, kissing her with a renewed gusto. When his tongue lapped against her lips she responded equally as eager, happy he seemingly was free from his traumatic memories.

"You know I need you, right?" he premised, his voice heavy with adoration.

"Yeah, I do," she responded confidently, "You're a mess."

"Mhmm. I don't know why you stick around."

"Maybe because I'm a mess too. And together we make one hell of a dumpster fire."

"You make it sound so romantic."

They both laughed, her arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulled her into his lap, her knees coming to rest on either side of him.

"Romance is one of my strong suits," she continued, pecking his lips after she'd finished speaking.

"Oh is it? I love you and all, but whoever told you that has a nose that's a few inches longer now," Gabriel teased in response.

"What?!"

"Liv, you are the least romantic being I have ever come across. Now I'm not saying that's a downfall, but it is a fact."

"Oh you just wait Casanova, I'll show you romantic. I'll have you puking into a vase of roses before you know it."

"Point proven."

As much as she didn't want to admit he was right, there really was no denying it. She tilted her head in defeated agreement as he eyed her smugly, she'd been in one relationship her entire life and it was sitting in front of her currently. He breathed another laugh through his nose before planting one final kiss on her lips, wishing it could be more.

"Come on, Dean's got his panties all in a bunch out there and I'm over it. Time to finish this nonsense," Gabriel revealed, lifting her off the bed with him as he stood, "Are you all packed up?"

"Pretty much, I just need a blade," she replied as her feet hit the floor.

"I'm sure Tweedle-Dum has a spare you can borrow."

"Who's Tweedle-Dum?"

"Any of them, all of them."

The pair walked from the room, Gabriel always one step behind her as they made their way down the hall and back to the group not so patiently waiting on them. Her stomach was in knots as she replayed the information Sam had given her about the world they were about to travel to, and the risks. She had to admit she felt a little off her game ever since Gabriel had returned, she didn't want this life anymore and it was showing.

"Here it is! The final ingredient, a fresh serving of archangel grace," Gabriel announced as they entered the library.

Gabriel popped the vial onto the table with a flourish, the other occupants of the room all looking at it skeptically. Liv knew they were thinking exactly what she had, that it wasn't enough, but she hoped and prayed it was. She wasn't pulling any more from him ever again.

"This is what you call a serving?" Rowena questioned, lifting the bottle and squinting at the contents.

"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions, it'll be more than enough to get the job done."

Dean scoffed at Gabriel's terminology, earning him a laugh from Liv as Rowena began to perform the spell. The five travelers prepped for their journey, each fiddling with something in their hands as they waited for the rift to open. Gabriel shared a glance with Liv, his eyes nervous as he began to think of all the things that could happen to her over there, things he may not be able to control. It was too late to try and convince her to stay, not that she would anyway, but he'd already seen her on her deathbed once. It wasn't anything he planned on seeing again.

"Koth Munto Nuntox," Rowena chanted, throwing her hands up towards the back of the room.

A waving, orange rip of light tore through the air, shocking Liv slightly. She'd seen a lot of things in her days, but nothing like this. On the other side of that little static line was a whole other universe, a land much worse off than here. It's appearance was certainly deceiving. Gabriel noticed her unease, even if it was slight, and his hand came to rest between her shoulder blades reassuringly.

"Stay with me," he whispered to her, and she nodded in response.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Castiel asked, his eyes scanning the group.

"Yeah, all right," Sam responded.

"Let's do this," Dean added immediately after his brother.

As they took a step towards the rift, it began to fritz like a lightbulb burning out before wilting to the side and crackling out of existence, leaving the room in the same state it had been seconds before.

"Okay…" Dean muttered, confused.

"Well, that was… fast," Castiel commented next.

"Very, very fast," Sam added.

"I told you we needed more," Liv mumbled to Gabriel, trying to hide her words from the rest of the group.

"One could even say premature," Rowena tacked on, just adding insult to injury.

"Um… I thought it would be enough," Gabriel confessed, his shame very evident in his voice.

"All right, great. What do we do now?" Sam asked, his frustration growing.

"Hell if I know," Dean answered, equally as irritated.

"You do know. We all do," Castiel concluded, earning a frightened glance from the witch, "We need archangel grace. Gabriel's obviously running a little low, and we don't know how long it'll take him to recover. So that leaves exactly one source on Earth."

"No," Sam snapped, fear falling over his features.

"I don't like it either but there's no other way. We need Lucifer."

Gabriel hung his head at the revelation. As if it wasn't bad enough they were being dragged into Apoco-Land with the three Amigos, now Lucifer was getting involved. This was getting worse and worse by the second. While he was almost happy this hadn't panned out, leaving him a few more hours of what he hoped would be peace with Liv, it wasn't turning out to be as simple as he'd thought it would be when we agreed to help. As the three left the room to formulate their plan, he was left wondering what was coming next.

"I thought it was fine…" he mumbled to her, his eyes averting embarrassingly.

"I know. We'll figure it out," she assured him, linking her fingers through his, "and if we don't, doesn't really affect us now does it?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she smirked up at him and he responded with a smile. She was technically right, they could walk away right now if they wanted to. Gabriel was useless to them now without enough grace to spare to open that rift. He knew she never would, unless it was deemed impossible, but it did give him something to hope for.

As it was every time he was in this close of a proximity to her, it was impossible not to lean down and kiss her. She was a constant refuge, a stronghold, when he needed her she never failed him. He'd always been confused as to why his brothers thought the humans so weak. She was far stronger than any celestial being he'd ever known, never running from any challenge that stood in her way. In the face of betrayal she forgave, in her heartache she soldiered on and when his world was crumbling around him, she'd stood by him to help him pick up the pieces, selfless and willing to sacrifice no matter the cost.

They weren't sure of how much time had passed, wound around the each other as they poured their affections unhindered into the other. Her hand came up to the collar of his shirt, pulling at the fabric to graze her fingertips over his skin, and it was then he remembered they were not alone in the room. Easing back slowly, he pulled away, clearing his throat as he locked eyes with the red-haired witch still seated at the long table.

"Well don't stop on my account," she purred, "I love a good romance. Do let me know if you ever need a third…"

Gabriel's face lifted in curiosity and consideration as Rowena batted her perfectly embellished eyes at the duo, the look alone filling his mind with a fantasy he just couldn't push away. Liv noticed immediately, lazily smacking the back of her hand against his chest, silently scolding him and jostling the images from his mind as he snapped back to reality. As he tried to apologize to her with his eyes, neither of them noticed that Rowena had risen from her seat and was sauntering towards them, her gaze floating up and down the angel as she stopped in front of him.

"Size of the boat indeed," she hummed in appreciation as she stopped at his midsection.

Gabriel quickly grabbed the first thing he could find, a very old, tattered book off the shelf to his right, and covered the bulge that had formed in his jeans. He couldn't remember when that had popped up, but he was telling himself it was certainly when he'd been hot and heavy with Liv before the rude interruption. When he glanced over at her, her eyes were rolled so far back into her head he could barely see her pupils. He was in trouble and he knew it.

"You lucky girl," Rowena praised as her attention turned to Liv, tapping her finger lightly on her nose in congratulations.

"I don't even wanna know…" Dean groaned as he took in the sight before him, Gabriel covering his groin with a book as Rowena seductively eyed a very flustered looking Liv, "Sam has a plan."

"Uh… okay," Gabriel stammered, shifting uncomfortably, turning his body more towards Liv to hide from prying eyes.

"So… we find Lucifer, Rowena we assume you can do that for us?" Sam began, "Bind him with the cuffs and Gabriel, we're hoping you have a way to get some grace from him. We have the archangel blade, so, whatever you need to get it done."

"Uh, that's it?" Gabriel scoffed, his voice filled with concern, "You're just gonna waltz on up to Lucifer, throw some magic cuffs on him and call it a day?"

"We'll figure out the minor details on the way," Dean added, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No. We'll figure out the _major_ details now. I like being alive! I'm not marching up to my volatile brother and throwing a match on him… again. Didn't work so well the first time, not gonna work this time either."

"Well he isn't at full strength," Sam cut in, trying to defend their only idea.

"Yeah? Neither am I, so that's a moot point."

"All right, what's your plan then?"

Gabriel's face had hardened, his lips pressed into a tight line as his nostrils flared. These idiots were going to get everyone killed. His gaze fell to the woman at his side, her eyes looking to him for answers, answers he wasn't sure he had. His mind ran through all their playing cards: a witch, a wayward angel, a busted archangel, and three hunters. All in all it wasn't a bad team, it was just a matter of using them all properly, and safely.

"You, Red," he began, pointing his finger at Rowena, "I know there's something out there we can give him to knock his ass out long enough to get him here. Can you find it and can you make it?"

"I know just the thing," she beamed, her charming yet wicked smile lighting up her face.

"By tomorrow, I should have enough to do a little shapeshifting, I think… Knowing my brother, he'll be wallowing his troubles away somewhere seedy, let's hope it's a bar. I go in, play a little bartender, work a little magic, sneak some of Red's magic potion into the drink and bam, Luci will be locked down to get what we need from him."

"Wait…" Liv cut in, "can't we use him somehow? To keep that door open longer than twenty four hours? We obviously now know that the amount of archangel grace has a direct effect on the life of the rift, what if we kept adding to it…"

"Like grace on tap?"

"Exactly. Keep the spell active, the door open and drain his ass all at the same time."

"That's… actually a great idea," Sam commended, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Great. When do we leave? How long 'til you can find him Rowena?" Dean jabbered, confident and ready to put the plan into action.

"A few hours, tops," Rowena replied, "I still have enough leftover ingredients from finding Gabriel, should be no problem."

"Tomorrow," Gabriel concluded, "first thing. Tonight, I say we kick back, drink, eat, have a little fun. You all need to lighten up a little and I want some time with this one before we head off on another life threatening adventure. Deal?"

The brother shared a look, silently deciding that it wasn't worth a fight, "Yeah, deal," they answered in unison. A few more hours wouldn't hurt.


	13. Chapter 13

The bar was bustling, but the four people sat in the back corner booth paid no mind. On one side was two brothers, they'd saved the world once or twice without so much as a thank you, and they'd do it again in a heartbeat if they had to. On the opposite, a fallen archangel and the human woman he'd fallen head over heels for. His eyes fell to her every few minutes, just so he could look at her. Most times she didn't even notice. When she turned to talk to him, his head would always dip ever so slightly, bringing his ears closer to her so as not to miss one syllable of whatever it was she had to say. One might think it was because the bar was loud, but no, anyone would see him doing the same thing in a silent room or the back of a car, it was a habit at this point. When she laughed her head would fall onto his shoulder and his face would turn to rest against hers, smiles mirroring each other's. It was a palpable kind of love, one you could feel when they were in the room. It was visible and infectious, unquestionable and undeniable.

"Okay, so one time I was hunting a ghoul in Arkansas, whatever, things are nasty. But this chick, man… she made that whole shit show so worth it," Dean retold, the neck of his fourth beer nestled between his fingers, "Crazy, the things she could do… flexible-"

"All right, that's enough," Sam laughed from beside him, stopping the story before it got too graphic.

"No no! I wanna hear the rest!" Gabriel insisted, throwing his empty whiskey glass down onto the table as his other hand ran absentmindedly up and down the thighs across his lap.

Liv clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes as her head fell back against the wall. The alcohol was swimming through her blood stream now and she welcomed that familiar floating buzz. The hands on her legs were warm and soothing, if she could stay wrapped in a moment forever this one was in the running.

"What? Not like I could tell any of my stories…" Gabriel pouted, fingers briefly dancing along her side causing her to quickly convulse in defense, "I don't think you'd appreciate them knowing all your tricks."

"Gabe!" she scolded through gritted teeth, bolting up and grabbing his forearm in warning.

He responded to her threat with a kiss, pressing his lips gently to hers and just as quickly as it had come, her anger washed away. Maybe it was the booze or the way his hair brushed against her forehead but her heart swelled in her chest. He'd been around for thousands of years and in a conversation centered around their 'best hits', he was rendered quiet so as not to embarrass her. Now, she knew he also could be keeping hush because he didn't want to bring up his past flings but they'd talked about them before, no reason he couldn't have now.

"So go on," Gabriel urged, turning his attention back to the man across from him.

"She could put her feet behind her head," Dean bragged, "and hold them there. For awhile."

"Oh. Love that. 'Nother round?"

The table erupted in agreement and the angel tapped the knees locking him in place. She regrettably lifted them, craning her neck around to watch him as he walked off. His slightly bowed legs gave him an unmistakable sway, the hair on the back of his head unruly and curling behind his ears just the way she liked. He was the epitome of perfection. It was at that moment she knew without a doubt that it was the alcohol talking, and she was loving every minute of it.

"I'll admit it," Dean confessed, snapping her from her trance, "I was wrong."

"What?" she questioned, turning back around and looking at him, lip turned up in confusion.

"About you and him. I never thought it was… real. I was wrong."

"Well, uh, thanks? I guess?"

Gabriel returned moments later, four beers in his hands and a waitress trailing behind with four distinct shots on a tray. Tequila. Each occupant of the booth had a different reaction at the sight of the lime embellished glass shooters. Dean rubbed his hands together excitedly, his tongue shooting out from between his teeth as he eyed the cute, brunette waitress when she set his on the table in front of him. Sam groaned, knowing the headache he would undoubtedly wake up with in the morning but still unable to resist taking his. Liv smirked, she'd had many a wonderful nights under tequila's spell with the man who was sliding into the booth beside her. He remembered, and he wanted it again.

"You a tequila girl, Liv?" Dean asked skeptically, winking at the server one last time before she walked off.

The corner of Gabriel's mouth ticked as he watched the smile spread across her face. This was his favorite Liv, inhibitions gone and a little drunk. He watched as her eyebrow raised confidently, Dean was about to be proven very wrong.

To start, she pulled her lime off the rim and then turned to Gabriel, holding it in front of his lips. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he complied opening them and allowing her to wedge the slice between his teeth. His eyes went wide with a little shock but mostly excited anticipation as she turned back forward and grabbed the glass with her thumb and forefinger. When her tongue darted out to lick the salt from the rim, he felt a little jolt in his stomach, she was going to be the death of him. Soon enough he'd have her like this all the time, she was going to put that 'archangels could only be killed by another archangel' rule to the test, he just knew it.

Sam and Dean watched intently as she tipped her head back, draining the liquid in one fell swig, the little cough they expected from the burn of the liquor as it slid down her throat never came. She was tougher than she looked. She gave the boys a self-assured glare before grabbing Gabriel's chin between her fingers and pulling him to hers, her tongue sweeping in to pull the lime wedge from his lips. Keeping her grip on his face, she squeezed the juice from the fruit, his eyes glazed over in unhindered adoration and titillation. Her gaze was dark and absolutely intoxicating as she pulled the rind from her teeth, he'd never felt this hypnotized ever before in his life. When she closed the distance between them again, her tongue pushed between his lips and he could taste the tequila and lime still lingering and it took every ounce of his self control to not grab her and throw her across the table.

"Do that again," he growled loud enough for only her to hear as they separated, foreheads and noses still touching, "and we're having sex right here and now."

"Promise?" she breathed, tongue flicking out across her bottom lip.

Oh she was pushing every boundary and limit, and she knew it. Well two could play this game and he'd launch his own attack when she was least expecting it.

"Can you two not…" Dean complained from across the table, "we're in public and you're eye fucking each other so hard I feel like I have to pay you. Have some decency."

"Sorry…" she chastised, grabbing her beer and swigging it, keeping her eyes locked on Dean now.

The hunter understood some of the allure now. God damn… and somehow this quirky, sarcastic winged prick got to go home with her every night? Sometimes life wasn't fair.

"Dean's just jealous 'cause he's striking out with not one, but two people here tonight," Gabriel implied, his voice ringing with a hint of caution, "It'll be him and righty-tighty-all-nighty at this rate."

"Shut up," Dean snapped, causing the other two occupants of the table to erupt into laughter.

"You've lost your touch."

"Oh? I'll show you…"

They all watched as Dean stalked off in the direction of that cute, brunette waitress that had brought their shots to the table, his steps growing more and more confident the closer he got. Maybe he did still have a little of that former charm and magic. Gabriel leaned over and pressed his lips to Liv's again, this time his kiss sweet and slow and she couldn't hold back the smile and soft drunken giggle that escaped as his stubble tickled against her jaw.

Sam couldn't help the grin that twitched at the corner of his mouth. It was almost refreshing being around them, their pure, unbridled happiness was contagious. It almost made him forget where they were going tomorrow, who they had a one-time chance of fooling. While the other members of the group didn't seem concerned, Sam knew there was no way this all went as planned.

"Well look at him," Gabriel commented as he peered over at Dean flirting against the bar, "looks like he may have actually worked his way in. You two wanna go? He can drive himself home, yeah?"

Liv and Sam agreed. She was ready to have Gabriel all to herself, the tequila finally taking effect. The angel quickly flew them home, Sam immediately stalking off towards his room as soon as they'd landed. The couple watched him walk off, both of their carefree mindsets stumbling a little. While they hadn't expected him to stay around, they knew what they'd been doing all night, him walking off without so much as a word was jarring.

"I'm gonna go take a shower real quick," Liv informed Gabriel, leaning up to kiss his cheek before walking off.

As the water cascaded down around her, she was lost in her thoughts. The hot steam trapped within the glass doors was thick and heavy, almost making it hard to see. If there was one thing she loved about this bunker, it was the water pressure and the scalding temperatures that the water reached. She was humming a song she couldn't even remember the name of, something catchy that had played over the bar's speakers, simply letting the spray warm her skin, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Gabriel shook his head as he watched her. She was so caught up in her own world she hadn't heard him come in and open the door to her stall. How the hell she survived in her field of work was a mystery to him sometimes. His eyes followed the droplets that trailed down her back, marveling at the sights before making himself known.

Slowly, he slid in, his presence still unknown, and wrapped both of his arms around her middle, his chest pressing into her back. He expected her to jump, or scream, or at least startle, but she didn't. He could see her face lift into a smile as her arms snaked over his.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice deep and husky.

"Hey," she replied, her smile growing up into her eyes.

"You have the worst reflexes and senses of any hunter I've ever met."

"Or maybe I was just expecting you."

It was his turn to smile now, "Am I that predictable?"

"Little bit."

There was no way he was letting her win this one. This was supposed to be his great retribution for her antics at the bar. Looks like he had to up the ante. He hummed in appreciation as his lips pressed against her neck, his beard leaving a little trail of red as he traveled upward towards her ear. Ever so slightly, she pushed herself farther back into him as her body grew flush at his motions. The water was warm, but Gabriel was warmer as he cradled her tightly against him.

"You've… always had a thing for showers," she sputtered, her throat going dry as his mouth began dragging across it.

"Oh? What else do I have a _thing_ for?" he inquired, enjoying that his plan was working.

Liv felt her knees buckling at his tone, "Um… the back of my car…."

"Mhmm."

"The uh… standing. Standing up."

"Ah. Do you know why I like standing up?"

In one swift motion he spun her in his arms and hoisted her up around his waist, her back pressing into the wet tile. Her legs immediately wrapped around him as her hands shot to his shoulders for stability she knew she didn't need, he had her. His eyes were hard as they bore into hers, the normally golden hue a darker amber as he waited for her response. She couldn't think straight. His mouth was parted slightly, his hair dripping and plastered around his face and neck. It wasn't fair. No one was supposed to look this good soaking wet. The only response she could muster was a single shake of her head. Finally, payback was his.

"Because, when you're like this, it's up to me and me alone to turn you into a quivering, whimpering mess," he began, nipping his mouth against the curve of her chin, "It's my responsibility to take care of you properly, to give you what you deserve."

His lips had traveled to the hollow behind her ear and she couldn't help the needy whine that fell from her throat. Her stomach was knotted so tight she could hardly breathe and as badly as she wanted relief this torture was exquisite. Every nerve was aching to be touched, but he kept his hands on the back of her thighs; she couldn't believe the fire searing over her skin from his words alone. She hadn't noticed, but he had, that her body had gone completely slack in his hold.

"I like it when you give up control for once in your fucking life, like this, right now… limp in my arms… waiting," he snarled, every word tightening that knot further.

Of course he was right. It was rare when she submitted to anyone completely, even him. She was chalking it up to the alcohol, but deep down she knew that every once in awhile, she needed this. Her breath was coming out in jagged pants now, her eyes snapped shut as she did exactly what he said she was: waiting. The water still spraying out from beside them now felt cold on her overheated skin.

"When you're mine…" he finished, pulling a groan from her as she locked her fingers into the hair on the back of his head.

Gabriel laughed. That was worth it. He typically wasn't the type for this kind of thing, but she'd earned it tonight. She always seemed to enjoy it when it did happen, and pulling this response from her was always deeply satisfying.

"Even after all these years, huh?" he asked, his voice back to it's normal playful tone.

"Mhmm," she hummed, unable to form a word, a breathy laugh escaping as she smiled.

"Let me help you out then sweetheart," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her bottom lip.

Shifting her slightly he lined up, pulling her down on top of him and her groan of relief that echoed off the walls was downright depraved.

"Shit… I didn't even touch you," he whined as his hips easily slid flush with hers.

"Keep talking," she begged, squeezing her legs around his lower back.

They'd had their fair share of sex in their heyday, but this, he thought, this had to take the cake. Never had she ever been so responsive and desperate for him. He began to move inside her, short shallow thrusts and within seconds he could already feel her tensing and trembling; this was some kind of record.

"No one else has ever given you what you needed, have they?" he started again, obeying her request, "They could never make you feel what I can, not even if they tried."

"No," she whimpered, "wouldn't want them to."

"You come undone for me, only me."

"Yes."

"Let me feel it then."

At his command she felt that coil in her stomach release and the wave of endorphins wash through her. All she cared about was him. In that moment she'd do anything he asked of her. Years of desperation and frustration were washing away, relief settling deep within her bones. When his mouth finally pressed against hers, soft and sweet, she couldn't deny that right here and now, she felt complete.

"That's my girl," he praised against her lips, the fog finally starting to clear.

At his words of praise she whimpered, he knew every single one of her buttons and exactly when to push them. She needed more of him, all of him. Roughly, she grabbed his face in her hand and pulled him back to hers, kissing him hard, her tongue begging for entrance against his lips.

"Made for you," she affirmed, kissing his face as it scrunched in desperation.

She knew how to use her chips just as well as he did his own. He hissed as her words sent a shockwave searing through him, his pace picking up and growing more and more erratic with every glide of her body against his. Their tongues battled for dominance now, his taking a slight upper hand as he finally slid one hand from behind her thigh to grip her hip. She was absolutely the most perfect thing this Earth had ever created.

"I love you," she cooed, her fingers falling to that magic spot behind his ear, "You're all I'll ever want, all I've ever wanted."

Suddenly, she felt her thighs trembling again, that familiar pressure building in her stomach. She hadn't been expecting it and it's sudden re-emergence caught her off guard. He could tell, and he pushed back his own impending release, trying to get her to her own first.

"Don't stop," she begged, clawing at his back as she wrapped herself around him.

"Not stopping," he assured, hoping he could keep good on that promise.

"Oh… god please…"

"Not God. Met him a few times though."

If she hadn't been so worked up she would have rolled her eyes and laughed, but right now her body was burning as it waited for release. She went completely limp in his embrace, giving him whatever range of motion he needed to relieve her of the weight bearing down on her core.

"Gabriel…" she sighed, her voice hoarse.

Hearing her moan his name like that was sinful, there was no way he could hold back much longer. His hand shot between them as he began pressing and circling over her in hopes she'd reach her own ecstasy before the dam broke loose. Within seconds of his fingers beginning their dance, she was screaming, the sound muffled by his shoulder as she buried her face into his body. As soon as he felt that familiar tightening he let his own guttural groan rip from his chest, pulling her impossibly closer to him. His hand tangled into her hair as he grunted against her head, his twitching, uncontrollable thrusts slowing as he finally relaxed.

"Fuck…" she sighed, releasing the grip in his hair in favor of slow, scratching affections.

"Yeah… I know," he agreed, "you're impressed. I get it. I'll give you a second."

She laughed, "Have I told you how lame you are lately?"

"Not lately, no."

Their eyes finally met again, both sparkling with mischief and love. She tilted her head in and kissed him, the urgency was gone, replaced with gratitude and devotion for the man in front of her.

"You're fucking lame," she whispered, running her hands down his chest as they parted.

"Yeah? Well my lame ass just blew your mind, again, and don't try to deny it," he bragged, diving in towards her throat to plant sloppy, open mouthed kisses across.

Slowly, he shifted her down onto her feet, already missing her warmth and the security of her embrace. He spotted her shampoo on the shelf behind her and snatched it, lathering up his own hair before turning his attention to her. His fingers raked and scrubbed against her scalp, relaxing her into a deep sense of serenity and bliss. He turned her to face forward, his fingers working the base of her skull and neck now, rubbing her permanently tensed muscles with gentle fervor. Her head fell forward as she relaxed, letting him continue with no resistance.

"You met him a few times? Really?" she teased as he pulled his hand away, leaning back against him.

"Yeah.. not my best. Also not my worst. In my defense, I was _pretty_ distracted…" he defended, leaning down and pecking his lips on hers.

"No. Not your worst."

"So no one else, huh?"

His question shocked her. He'd asked as his arms had come around her waist, hands flat against her stomach, which then dropped beneath his touch. She wasn't sure she wanted to give him that answer. She knew it wasn't unreasonable, no way he expected her to tell him that she'd decided to wait indefinitely for him, it still felt wrong to have ever been touched by anyone else as she stood there in his arms.

"What?" she stammered, and he could feel her body tense.

"Did you mean it, when you said no one else could do that to you?" he clarified, dragging the tip of his nose along her cheek.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"They didn't care enough to try. I didn't care enough to convince them. I just wanted you."

Guilt seeped into his chest as she turned to look at him. Her lips were settled in a happy little smile, but he didn't share in the sentiment. He felt like she'd punished herself over the years, that even when he was gone he'd still held her back. Granted, he knew she hadn't been the most sexually liberated woman when they'd met, he'd thought he'd changed that, but now it seemed that that side of her was reserved for him. Whether it was by choice or subconsciously he wasn't completely sure, but from what she'd just said, it seemed more of a choice.

"Guess I have a lot to make up for then," he promised, tilting her head back into the spray to rinse the soap from her hair.

They finished their shower in silence, passing kisses and lingering touches filling the quiet perfectly. When they emerged from the glass stall, every surface was covered in tiny droplets of condensation, the result of the too long shower, even their towels were slightly damp. They laughed as they discovered the consequences of their actions, Gabriel opting to help them along with a quick snap of his fingers.

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, his hands were on her again. He couldn't help it. An old T-shirt of his she'd kept throughout the years draped loosely around her shoulders, hanging down to the middle of her thighs, and the flood of memories that washed through him set his actions into autopilot. He remembered slow, lazy mornings and frantic, touch-starved nights. With every hour that passed back in her orbit he felt as if one apart washed away. They were settling back into exactly how things were before, better in fact, and he couldn't stop chasing that high.

All she ever wanted was standing in front of her, his fingers digging into her hips, hair hanging shaggily into his face. He looked _happy_ , genuinely, unabashedly happy to be alive. His smile sparkled into his squinted eyes as he laughed with her, dimples pressed so far into his cheeks she thought they would never disappear again, and she hoped they wouldn't. She was still a little drunk and the surge of serotonin he'd sent coursing through her lingered so it felt like she was floating through a dream. For a moment she considered maybe she was, this felt too good to be true, but the feeling of his lips and hands against her were far better than the justice her memories had given him.

"Come here," he beckoned as he laid back onto the bed, his arms open wide for her to crawl into.

When she was near it was if her aura itself pushed the pain away, blocking behind a light and power only she could emit. There was no doubt or uncertainty, it was life just the way he wanted it. Finally.

"Tired?" he whispered as his thumb ran up and down her arm.

"Mhmm," she mumbled in response.

He felt her slowly drifting off to sleep. Her breathing deepened and her body went slack against him, leaving his mind to wander in her silence. He wasn't concerned about his trip to Lucifer, from what Castiel had told him earlier he was really down on his luck, it would be easy to fool him. However, taking her into another dimension with a radioactive Michael was really putting a pit in his joy. The Michael he had known was a dick, but this one seemed worse. This one had been playing God for far too long and he had a pretty good idea of just how that would have warped his older brother's already flawed mindset. He hated the humans enough as it were, ready to torch the world based on nothing more than a half-assed request from an absent father. There was no telling what he would do to a human that had, for lack of a better term, corrupted an archangel. That's how he would see it, Gabriel knew. Then his mind wandered further down it's path of familiar destruction and he considered that this could be the last night he spent like this, pinned down with her hair splayed across his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing may soon cease to exist.

At the thought, he clutched her in a little tighter, feeling his lungs constrict as he pushed back his tears. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop her, and he wasn't risking any form of coercion, but as he pressed his lips firmly into her hair he wished she'd consider it.

"Hey…" she slurred, the tightening of his grip rousing her from the light sleep she'd fallen into, "what's the matter?"

"Nothin' sweetheart, go back to sleep," he lied, he could hear the pain in his voice and he knew she did too.

Clumsily, she shifted, pressing her chest flat against his and reaching up to gently grab each curve of his jaw in her hands. When her lips pressed against his he felt his sob catch in his throat, he didn't know if it was a cry of relief or fear, maybe both. She was pouring her soul into her movements, her lips pressing and dragging slowly and comforting, nothing motivating her beyond easing whatever anguish he was feeling. She continued until she felt him loosen and his reciprocated kiss eased into her own.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," she assured as she kissed the tip of his nose, "you're home."

Deep down she knew he'd always be a little afraid, anyone would be, but it was her goal to push back as much as she could. She continued her revering touches, pressing her lips to the lids of his closed eyes, then up onto his brow before one final press to his forehead. He needed more still. His hand slid against her cheek and he redirected her back to his mouth, grabbing hers with more vigor and urgency than she had his.

"I love you, you know," he sighed, pressing his forehead into hers as his eyes pinched shut.

"I know," she replied with a smile, brushing her fingers down the side of his face, "You look tired, love."

"I am."

He was. That weariness he'd felt since he'd been pulled free had faded but was still very much present. Particularly in times like this, when it was quiet and peaceful, he felt it the most. While his body begged for a few hours of rest he didn't want to miss one single second of what he was living, because now he knew it could be ripped away without a moment's notice.

"Tell me what you need," she requested, dipping her head to press her lips to his chest.

Now seemed like a better time than any.

"I don't want you to go," he confessed, "across that rift."

"Gabe…"

"I need you. You asked me what I needed and that's the answer. We don't know what's over there, or who's over there… I've seen you knocking on death's door once already, I can't do it again. I'm not gonna tell you what you can and can't do, but I will ask you to please… stay here. For me?"

His words reverberated through her. Every instinct she had was telling her that staying behind was a bad idea. She needed to be with him, not stuck behind waiting for him… again. A piece of her wanted to be offended, it was like he had no faith in her abilities or skills. She'd proven to him time and time again she was no damsel-in-distress, but then she remembered being laid out, hanging on by athread less than two weeks before. He'd been there. He'd seen it. She knew that seeing her like that wouldn't have been easy for him and being forced to walk away was probably even harder. Rowena would also be staying behind, surely there would be some work to be done behind the scenes as well.

 _For me?_

For him… 


	14. Chapter 14

"Gabe…. Gabriel.. Fuck," Liv panted as she writhed on the mattress, two handfuls of honey blonde hair tightly wound between her fingers, "I can't…"

"You can," he urged, his mouth relenting from her overstimulated core just long enough to get the words out before his tongue returned to it's task, "stop resisting, and let it happen."

An exasperated groan broke free from her lips. The pressure was too much, but for some unknown reason it wouldn't relent. Maybe she didn't want it to end, or maybe it was because this felt different than all the other times. It almost felt too good. It was the kind of good that she feared would never be replicated, so she had to prolong it as long as she could. She also knew this wasn't even the worst he could do. He was taking it easy on her, so why this was so mind-blowing was a mystery. Plus, it wasn't like this exact scenario hadn't taken place just two weeks prior. It had to be the slight hangover, or maybe the fact that they'd hadn't really relented with each other for the past twenty four hours. She wasn't about to tell him to stop though…

Finally, she felt relief impending. That bubble in her stomach began to inflate into her chest, her fingers and toes tightening as she yanked his head to exactly where she needed it. As she cried out a string of profanities littered with his name, she felt him hum in appreciation against her, adding just enough to send one more aftershock vibrating through her.

"You don't play fair," she panted as his lips finally released her and began kissing a trail up her stomach.

"Never claimed to," he teased, "plus, you started it. Waking me up with that sinful, oh-so-talented mouth. It actually _is_ only fair I return the favor. So…"

"Shut up."

"I don't know what you were expecting. When have I _ever_ left you high and dry? Well, when I'm in my right mind anyway…"

"It was supposed to be just for you!"

"I don't do 'just for me', sweetheart. You know this. Why are you complaining, by the way? I'd ask if it was good but I already felt the answer."

"I'm not complaining…"

The little pout that settled on her lips was one of the most endearing things he'd ever seen. Her flushed face and still half sleep-lidded eyes was definitely the sight he wanted to wake up to for the rest of eternity. He flopped down onto his stomach beside her, arms burying under the pillow as he laid his head down onto it, face towards her. He knew it was time to get up, it was Luci day, but another five minutes wouldn't kill anyone.

As her heart settled from one of what she hoped would be many more mornings with him, she rolled over on top of him. Her chest pressed into his back and she snaked her arms around his neck, giggling at the grunts and groans that sounded as he shifted to accommodate them.

"Oh, not mad anymore?" he teased, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile.

"Guess not," she retorted, squishing her nose against his cheek, "are you ready for today?"

"'Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Lucifer…"

"Eh, he's nothing."

Her stomach dropped at his words. Typical of him to not understand the gravity of a situation. She hadn't seen the Devil since he'd "killed" Gabriel all those years ago, seeing him again was certainly going to kick up some long-repressed memories.

"Baby, he isn't nothing. Please tell me you're taking this seriously," she pleaded, pushing herself off of him.

"I'm taking it seriously, don't worry about me," he replied, turning over to his back to watch her as she put her clothes back on, "Come on, I'll make you breakfast. I sent Cassie out to get some food for this dump yesterday."

The frown on her face remained as he tried to lighten the mood. He noticed, pursing his lips as his head swayed to the side. Why couldn't he get one day without some kind of catastrophe needing his attention? He wasn't going to admit to her face he was just as nervous as he was when they went after him nine years ago. He hadn't told her then either, but this plan seemed at least slightly more geared for success and with better odds. Luci wasn't jacked up on his ego and vengeful after eons in the cage. This time would be different.

"It's gonna be fine!" Gabriel continued, getting out of bed and dressing before going to stand in front of her, "I promise."

"You can't promise that," she warned, glaring at him through her brows, "That's what you said last time."

"Yeah, and last time it was fine too. Just what happened afterwards went a little south…"

"Gabriel. I can't…"

"I'm not goin' anywhere. Who dies when they have this much to live for, right?"

Gently, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his chin onto the top of her head. They stayed still, minds racing. All the contentment she'd thrived in yesterday had washed away, being replaced by the vision of his wings seared into the wooden floor of that old hotel, body laid out, still and bloody. Even with his arms around her that still felt like a reality, the piece of her that only he kept together shook in its place as she recalled the years of his absence. She still hadn't given him an answer, whether or not she would stay behind, and the question was still buzzing in the back of his mind. His own chances of making it out of there in one piece were low enough, he didn't need to add her into the mix. Michael would be gunning for her first.

"Just…" she stuttered, lifting her head to look at him.

"I know," he answered, not needing to even hear the rest.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling the tension she was holding in her neck and shoulders melt away at his gesture. Her pace picked up as the desperation set in, locking a hand into his hair as her eyebrows scrunched together. If life had taught her anything, it was that something standing right in front of you could be gone without a moment's notice.

"Hey, hey," he cooed, pulling his head away, "look at me."

Regrettably, she opened her eyes, swallowing hard to repress tears she knew were coming. His face was soft yet strong as his hands came up to cup her face. He gave her that trademark smirk and she wished she could have said it helped ease her building anxiety, but it didn't.

"Lucifer doesn't know what's about to hit him. I got him, okay?" he assured, kissing her forehead, "Now, kitchen. Go."

Grabbing his hand, she led him from the bedroom. A piece of him was happy to be out of there, he had to make a point to scrub the walls clean before they slept in there again. She may not be able to read the words written there, but he could. He needed no more reminders than the ones already burned into his memory of his time down in the pit. When they popped out of the hall and into the main area, their attention was grabbed by a large, slumped figure in the library —Sam. He was still wearing the same clothes he had the day before, setting alarms off in both of their heads. Quickly, Liv changed direction and tugged Gabriel towards the hunter.

"Sam?" she asked quietly, "did you sleep?"

"Uh hey. No," Sam admitted, his lips forming into a tight line, voice heavy.

"Do you want to?" Gabriel inquired, placing a hand on Liv's lower back, "I got enough in the tank to knock you out for a few hours. Better than nothin'."

"No. Thanks though."

"You need to sleep, Sam," Liv continued, "We have a big day."

"Yeah. Trust me. I know."

"What's up buddy?" Gabriel chimed in, stepping a little closer to him.

"Lucifer."

Gabriel nodded, tucking his lips into each other, "Can you give us a minute?" he whispered into Liv's hair, kissing her temple afterwards.

With a small smile and a nod, she took off in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that Gabriel could fix whatever was plaguing Sam . As soon as Liv was out of view, Gabriel pulled out the chair next to Sam and sat down. Sam's eyes were tired, black circles having formed underneath, his face even more conflicted than normal.

"What'd he do to you?" Gabriel finally spoke up.

"Everything. When I was stuck in the cage with him for… for a year," Sam confessed, too tired to even care it was the Trickster he was pouring his heart out to.

"Yeah, I can sympathize with that first part. Never was stuck in the cage with him, heaven before he was cast out though… shit show."

Sam's eyes changed and filled with sympathy as he looked at the archangel. Gabriel's face was set into a sad, lopsided smile, his eyes mirroring Sam's. Gabriel remembered those years, before Earth had been created, before Lucifer had been kicked out, anarchy began and Dad disappeared. Before he ran.

"I was the youngest brother there for a little while, before pops made the seraphs. He's always been a twisted dick, don't know where that wiring went so wrong…" Gabriel continued.

"How'd you… deal with it?" Sam mumbled softly.

"I didn't. Lot'a pent up issues in this handsome façade Sam, I'd give Dean a run for his money. Back then, I told myself I was helping my brother fight through his issues. I thought I was doing him a service, proving to him that I loved him. Letting him use me like that… But you know how this story ends."

"Yeah. I've tried running too."

"Luci always comes home."

A silence settled between the two men, heavy and thick as they both traveled back into their nightmares. Gabriel recalled years and years of mutilation and abuse at the hands of his brother, one could even call it torture. Physical, mental, emotional, Lucifer knew no limit when it came to inflicting pain. He'd used Gabriel's soft and gentle nature against him, using it to his advantage like it was a sport. When he finally fled heaven, it was the first time he had ever truly felt peace, even through the pain of missing his family.

"Are you… afraid to see him?" Sam questioned, his eyes falling to the table.

"Afraid? Nah. Nothing worse he can do to me than what he's already done," Gabriel answered, his voice void of the fear he felt, "I survived. Like to think I came out on top actually."

That was a conviction he truly felt. Lucifer, he hadn't changed. He was still bitter, jaded, cruel. He'd done nothing to remedy his flaws and downfalls over the years, whereas Gabriel felt he had. Well, at least he'd tried. He'd loved, lost, saved a few people, killed a couple of bad apples. All in all he didn't think he'd done too badly for himself, considering. Then there was Liv, of course. No matter what powers Lucifer held over Gabriel, he'd never have something like her.

"Don't… let him get to you," Gabriel continued, "He feeds on it. I won't let anything happen to you."

Sam was shocked by the sentiment in Gabriel's tone. This was the same guy that killed Dean in front of him hundreds of times, and then made him live out six months of pure hell in some elaborate prank. Yet, here he was now, hunting down the devil and willing to put himself on the line to save the world, even if he was a little reluctant. Times certainly had changed.

"How long?" Sam inquired nervously, "how long have you and Liv been, whatever you are."

"Long time," Gabriel responded, "if you're wondering if she was around for Mystery Spot, then yeah. Earned myself the dog house for that one. Ya hungry? I'm making the Liv Special. Eggs over easy and more bacon than any one human being ever needs to consume. You'll be doing her arteries a favor by sharing."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks."

As Gabriel took off in the direction of the kitchen, Sam knew he needed to linger a little bit longer. Dean was still passed out in his bed, his snores could faintly be heard from all the way in the library. Sam had heard him stumble in around 4 AM, his efforts with that little brunette were not in vain. While he knew Gabriel's intentions were good, the angel had done nothing to ease his mind. If anything, it had only pissed him off further. Lucifer had been destroying lives since before the sun was even created, yet somehow God had let him continue to exist. He thought back to all the people they'd lost throughout the years and the fact that that devoid, petulant monster was still walking freely angered him to no limit. One day they'd get the upper-hand on him and end him once and for all or he was going to die trying.

When Gabriel turned into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. Some things needed to be appreciated and revered for exactly what they were and this was one of them. Liv was seated on the counter, her legs hanging freely over the edge, swinging absentmindedly as she held a mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her attention was still very much engaged with whatever she was doing on it, he was fairly certain it was that weird candy game he'd caught her playing a few times now. She was addicted to it. Her hair was cascading around her face and shoulders, his t-shirt hung loosely on her small frame and he couldn't help but take in the rawness of the moment. This was her. Most would never see this side of her, they'd never be so lucky. To them, she'd always be that tough-as-nails hunter with the tongue to boot. To him, she'd always be that goofy, clumsy, giggling nerd who watched too much Harry Potter and could solve almost the entire Sunday Crossword singlehandedly.

He figured at some point when Dad was pulling everything together, turning atoms into molecules and molecules into trees, platypus', angels and humans, a piece of her must have been thrown into him by mistake. One little molecule meant for her was whirring around wreaking chaos, rewiring his electrical currents. How could something so small and insignificant be so profound that it changed fate itself? He knew he wasn't meant to love her, he was designed for a much greater purpose, but as he stood before her there was no grander task he could have been assigned. He was her lover, her best friend, her guardian and she the very thing that kept his grace pumping through his veins. Perhaps it was that little stolen piece of her that had kept him alive through the tortures of hell. Buzzing in his body on overdrive, jumpstarting his own wearied cells into functioning just enough to keep him going day after day, year after year. _Remember_ _what_ _you're_ _fighting_ _for_. She was the beginning and the end, the very definition of purpose. There was no force that heaven, hell, or anything in between could muster that was strong enough to tear him from her now.

"Hey," she greeted, finally catching sight of him leaning in the entryway, "what're you doing?"

"Enjoying the view," he beamed, pushing himself off the frame and towards her.

As he advanced she rolled her eyes, scoffing with a grin. She tossed her phone down onto the counter as he came to stand in front of her, nestling himself between her knees with his hands pressed into the cool countertop on each side of her. Her arms wrapped around his neck lazily, one hand toying with his messy hair.

"You know, your face is gonna get stuck that way if you keep rolling your eyes like that," he teased.

His lips fell to her throat, her pulse thrumming beneath his lips reminding him again that she was real. She was here. She was with him.

"You don't have to come today," he whispered against her skin, lips feathering as he spoke.

"Don't be dumb," she insulted, "I'm going. Don't even try to stop me. You're making me sit out the grand finale, I'm at least helping in the opener."

A sigh of relief exploded from his chest. He felt her breathe a small laugh through her nose, her arms wrapping a little tighter around him. His lips began to brush against her again, trailing up her neck and face until his forehead was pressed firmly against hers. She finally answered his request, and for once, she was giving in.

"Thank you," he choked, the relief settling so many of his nerves and fears.

"You owe me," she warned, keeping her eyes locked on his.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. Swear to… you."

Swearing to God held no meaning, not to him, but she did. She smiled with one side of her lips, bringing one hand between them and holding her pinky out straight. He mirrored her expression, linking his own smallest finger with hers and squeezing, pulling their hands into his chest. With not a second's more hesitation he leaned in and kissed her, lightly at first, but his motions picking up speed and tempo as he grew more and more grateful for this break he'd been given. She'd be safe here, at home. She'd have the witch as backup, in a warded bunker loaded with more weapons than anyone knew what to do with. When he came home, he'd bury himself in her arms, finally ready to take on the future. A future filled with nothing but her and peace and quiet.

"Have you decided on where exactly we'll be going when this is all said and done?" Gabriel's anticipation bubbled over, he wanted specifics on where his life would be headed in just a few days time.

"Mexico? Maybe Belize again…" she mused, that coy little smirk still plastered on her face.

"Oh I always knew you were perfect."

"I like the beach, and the food, and you like the tequila. Win win."

"Uh, correction. I like _you_ drunk on the tequila. Something about it makes you throw inhibitions to the wind and I have a deep appreciation for it."

Sam rounded the corner and paused where Gabriel had moments before, the scene before him making him smile. Gabriel was hovered in towards Liv sitting on the countertop, her arms wrapped around his neck with the most serene expression on her face. It was a look he would have never thought possible for her. They were both smiling with their entire faces, completely enraptured by one another; a tornado could pass by and he didn't think they'd even notice. He hadn't seen a look like that on Gabriel's face since before they'd outed him as an archangel, unbridled happiness tinged with a touch a mischief. He looked at her like she was made of a magic only he could see. They certainly did bring out the best in each other. Maybe the worst, too.

A pang of guilt hit him in the stomach. Clearly, they just wanted to run off into the sunset together, but here they were being drug off into his and his brother's mess once again. He knew there was no other option, and Dean would never forgive either of them for walking away now, but it didn't change the fact that Sam knew this wasn't their problem. It never had been. He watched as Gabriel leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow. It was the way you kissed someone that you knew you had the power to break, but never would. It was reassuring and absolute. It was the kind of kiss he craved to give to someone, to receive in return, but that wasn't his fate. It never was and it never would be.

"I'm hungry," Sam heard Liv pout as Gabriel pulled away, and he figured it was time to make his presence known.

"Hey," he greeted, walking into the kitchen like he hadn't just been watching them.

"Sam," she announced, her face losing some of the softness he'd just been witness to, "slacker here hasn't even started yet if you're looking for breakfast."

Gabriel groaned in jest as he trudged over-dramatically to the fridge, pulling out the groceries he'd sent Castiel to collect the day before. Liv snickered to herself, hopping down to the floor and fetching two frying pans so they could begin their task. Sam sat back and watched as the pair worked seamlessly together. Gabriel did most of it, Liv passing eggs and utensils as needed and he wondered how, after so many years apart, two people could still be so in sync with one other. It was like not a second had passed. When he moved around her, he brushed a hand against her lower back, the little motion always eliciting at least a twitch of a smile from her lips and he swore they passed things back and forth without even so much as a look. Their motions were almost second nature, so deeply ingrained it was more habit than effort. The sight of an all powerful archangel in his kitchen frying bacon and eggs was certainly not something Sam ever expected to be sitting through. He thought he might actually be sad when they all went their separate ways.

"Never knew you could cook Gabriel," Sam commented, the smell of bacon filling the room and he knew Dean would be roused by it soon.

"Oh yeah," the angel bragged as he switched his attention from the bacon to the eggs, "You get bored after a while, Sammy."

"He can play guitar, too," Liv boasted further, turning and leaning her back against the counter, "and we moonlit as bartenders for a little while. Also good at that."

"Oh yeah? Bartenders huh?" Sam wondered, "why?"

"Why not?" Gabriel noted, "We had fun."

There was so much more to them than Sam could have ever guessed. He hoped they'd stick around for even a few days after they returned, to tell their stories. The bunker could use a little happy every once in awhile. Liv came over moments later, setting a plate down in front of Sam and herself, taking a seat across from him. Sam had to admit, this had to be one of the best looking breakfasts he'd seen in awhile.

"You gonna be all right?" She asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Me? Oh yeah. I'll be fine," Sam promised, and he watched as Liv looked to Gabriel for reassurance.

"Do I smell bacon?" a gravelly, sleep-heavy voice called from the hallway.

The three inhabitants of the kitchen all turned their attention to the doorway, the image of a bathrobe-clad, hungover Dean coming into view. Gabe's chin tucked into his neck as his eyebrows furrowed, his reaction earning a stifled giggle from Liv.

"Wow," Gabriel commented, "Mark this under things I had no interest in ever experiencing."

Sam and Liv burst out into laughter as they watched Dean's face wrinkle in confusion and offense, Gabriel standing true in his disgusted expression. Dean brushed past the angel, fumbling loudly as he poured himself a mug of coffee, pouring almost half of it out onto the counter.

"Do you have no self-awareness?" Gabriel chided as he watched Dean leave the mess, "Or are you just that disgusting?"

"Never took you as a neat freak, Gabe," Dean teased, smirking as he sat down next to his brother, "send a plate of that over here, will ya?"

Gabriel's nostrils flared as he glared at the hunter, his eyes full of contempt. He couldn't wait to be out of here.

"Please?" Dean added sarcastically.

Liv shook her head, these two would never get along. Luckily, they wouldn't have to for much longer. She watched as Gabriel prepared a plate, haphazardly tossing food onto it in a manner very much unlike him. Even with this simple task, he was all about presentation. As he tossed it onto the counter and turned to lean against the stove Liv laughed again, all about presentation and a little petty.

"I am not delivering it to you," Gabriel stated matter-of-factly, "Not even in your wildest dreams."

"You two are going to be the death of us all," Liv retorted, bringing her empty plate over to the sink, "behave."

Her hand skimmed over Gabriel's chest as she whispered that last word just to him as she passed. She wound her way back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her for one moment of privacy. She'd made up her mind, deciding to give Gabriel a reprieve from his anxiety and stay behind from the main mission. While everything was still screaming at her to not let him go over there alone, she knew she had to trust him. She had to trust the Winchesters and Castiel; they'd get him home safely. He'd get himself home to her, he said he would, and he wouldn't break another promise.

Right now, the focus was on Lucifer. While she knew they'd be headed off to destruction land as soon as they got their hands on archangel grace, that time wasn't here just yet. She dressed in more suitable attire for hunting the devil, but kept Gabriel's old shirt on, it just seemed right having it on. Typically, she only ever slept in it, but it seemed appropriate even if she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She was left alone for thirty minutes, her thoughts running rampant, before a soft knock startled her from her worries.

"Can I come in?" a familiar sweet voice sounded from the other side of the antiquated wood.

"Of course," she replied softly, if he was anything but an angel he probably wouldn't have even heard.

When he stepped into the room, he saw exactly what he was expecting. She was seated on the edge of the bed, head hung low, too far gone in her head to dig herself out alone.

"Look, I know you're pissed," he began.

"I'm not pissed, Gabe," she cut off, snapping her eyes up to him, "I'm… panic-stricken."

He sighed, "I know. Anything I can do? To… ease your suffering?"

Leave it to him to pull a smile in the most unlikely of times. Even if there was nothing except abandoning this fool's plan once and for all.

"It's time to go," he confessed as she remained silent, "I'll drive. You just sit co-captain and look cute, yeah?"

The pair made their way to the war room, meeting with the other four members of their unlikely team. Rowena and Castiel flanked the Winchester brothers, everyone trying their best to mask their concern and fears.

"Okay, we got the plan, right?" Dean barked, his militant tone taking over, "main players are Rowena and Gabe. Cas you're back up one, Liv, Sam, we're back up two. We juice him, cuff him, throw him in the trunk. That's it, on to the next."

Everyone nodded once, their stomachs collectively falling as they walked off towards the garage. Little did they know it was one step towards a path of total and complete destruction.


	15. Chapter 15

The drive was tense; Liv sat in the passenger seat, her fingers wrapped tightly around Gabriel's, squeezing them as if he'd be gone the moment she let him go. It wasn't the destination she was concerned about, at this point nabbing Lucifer seemed like a walk in the park. No, it was what was coming afterwards that had her stomach in knots and her lungs rejecting oxygen like she was allergic to air itself. In a few hours time, she was going to have to have to watch him walk away — again. There was nothing she could do to mentally prepare for this, she'd tried everything. Every second she was here again with him, letting him leave seemed more and more impossible.

"You need to calm down," Gabriel instructed, soft yet firm, "I can't do what I need to do if I'm more worried about you."

She knew he was right, but that didn't stop her sharp tongue from lashing out.

"Well maybe you shouldn't sideline me and run off into another dimension after barely two days-" she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

"I did not sideline you. I _asked_ you and _you_ made the decision-" he defended, keeping his voice calm.

"Like I was going to say no! Come on, Gabriel, you knew exactly what you were doing."

"If I was adamant about you staying behind, I wouldn't ask, Liv. Did you forget I can barricade you in a room halfway across the world with a snap of my fingers?"

"Not right now you can't…"

"Oh, that's low."

Guilt seeped into her chest as she pulled her hand from his in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. This wasn't how she planned on their final hours of peace going, but right now her emotions were out of control and he was the only thing around to take them out on. He knew, of course; he'd been her verbal punching bag on a few occasions so he'd been expecting it. She'd been way too easy to convince, her true nature had to come out at some point, no matter how hard she was trying to behave for his sake.

"I'm sorry…" she mumbled, saying it only because she knew she had to, her anger still burning.

"I know," he responded, hearing the insincerity, "go ahead and be mad but get it all out now, 'cause you won't have the chance again here soon."

"Oh, you're an asshole! I thought you wanted me to 'calm down'."

Her tone was heavy with sarcasm as she mocked him, head dancing theatrically as she glared at him. He had half a mind to pull the car over and throw her into the backseat, let her take out her frustrations in his favorite kind of way, but life didn't always go how he wanted it to. Her ears and cheeks were glowing red and he immediately regretted his own quick retort. His nerves were getting the better of him just like hers were.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, reaching across the seat and resting his hand on her thigh, "I don't like it as much as you don't. Maybe more."

"Always have to be one step above…" she grumbled beneath her breath and he rolled his eyes.

"Says the one who always needs the last word."

It took all of her self control not to hurl forward and slam her fist into the dash. She was livid, at him, at this impossible situation, at the Winchesters for forcing their hands and at her own brain for constantly thinking that everything was a fight. She was well aware of her issues, but that didn't mean she'd ever done anything to remedy them. Besides going out and finding some kind of monster to kill. Maybe a life of retirement wasn't going to settle well now that she was thinking about it. His hand was still warm on her leg; at times she hated how he still loved her through everything she put him through. Sometimes she was not kind to him, but he never protested outside of a witty retort now and again.

Not about to let him win, she kept her mouth shut. Her tongue practically shook against her teeth as she pushed back the argumentative quips fighting to escape. Slowly, her anger receded as the trees blurred past the windows, and when she'd calmed enough she laced her fingers with his against her thigh, slightly ashamed and guilty.

"I feel like shit," she confessed quietly.

"Brain shit or body shit?" he questioned.

"Both."

Quickly, his eyes darted over to her and she certainly didn't hold the same appearance she had just hours before. His thoughts wandered back to her perched on the counter, playing mindless games and laughing at his even more mindless jokes and he wished they were back in that moment. She looked exhausted, it had always been a little fascinating as well as concerning just how quickly her nerves could take over, and how they affected her entire being. He'd been privy to her suffering these past few weeks, which only made him sympathize with her even further, and a little more helpless when it came to consoling her. Now that he knew what it was that she was feeling, he felt like all his previous efforts had never been enough.

"Come here," he beckoned, holding his right arm out to welcome her.

"No," she snapped, her arms returning to their crossed position at the loss of his hand on her.

"Please?"

Although she played it off as if it was nothing more than giving in to his polite little plea, she was truly relieved to be nestled up against his side. As always, his comforting warmth invaded her senses and calmed her slightly. In the face of her own self-destruction, he would always be the familiar safe space she needed.

"It's gonna be okay, you know that right?" he assured softly, leaning his head down onto hers.

"No," she replied, "and you don't either."

"Maybe not. But I can pretend. Beats thinking I'm gonna die, that's for sure. Plus, I'm here, right now, with you. Never thought that was gonna happen again."

He had a point. It wasn't doing much to silence the storm raging on inside her but it was comforting to hear the words. This wasn't something she ever thought she'd be doing again, riding shotgun curled up against him. He'd been gone, dead for all she knew, just two weeks ago. Everything since then felt like a blur and a lifetime all at once. That pain, that heartbreak and betrayal had all washed away, but now in its place was fear and panic. While she'd been desperately trying to live in the moment and enjoy the one thing she'd wished for all these years, the nagging sense of dread in the back of her head was always there.

"Trust me?" he asked, breaking up her inner monologue.

"Yes," she assured, "but it's everyone else-"

"The only faith I need is yours, sweetheart."

Liv lifted her head and looked at him, his mouth ticked up in a little smirk. As she leaned up to press her lips to his cheek she saw the Impala slowing in front of them. They'd made it. This was where Lucifer was. It was a quiet little town, no doubt completely oblivious to the fact that Satan himself was meandering around. Gabriel's lips pursed as he mentally prepared himself, seeing his brother again certainly wasn't the highest on his list of must-do's. Wasn't the lowest either.

The Winchesters emerged from their car first, a very reluctant Rowena crawling out from the backseat a few moments later. The bar was across the street, Joe's Town Club, and the poor bartender didn't know what was about to hit him. Gabriel watched him through the window, still in the driver's seat of Liv's Charger, trying to memorize motions and expressions. Lucifer had already been in there for a little while; while he was never one for nuances, the replica had to be as close to the original as possible for this to work. He also took a few minutes to watch his brother, slouched over with a pathetic little pout on his face. He was always such a whiny little brat, even when no one in the vicinity could care less. Liv sat patiently with him, staying silent as Gabriel did his work.

A knock on the window jolted them both, Dean's impatient face staring back at them as he gestured with his hands to get out and get going. Gabriel sighed and rolled his eyes, this is why they always broke the world. Impatience and impulsivity. The couple got out of the car, meeting in the makeshift circle the other three had formed behind the building. Rowena immediately held her hand out, holding the tiny vial filled with her swirling, purple potion, her shoulders straightening in artificial bravery as she prepared to face her assaulter. Sam and Dean took off in the direction of the bar, needing to get the original bartender out so Gabriel could slip in.

"Let's get it over with," Rowena groaned, not wanting any melodramatic moments to stall them any further.

"Be careful," Liv sighed, "both of you"

"Oh? Miss me, would you?"

Liv rolled her eyes as she breathed a laugh at the witch before turning her attention to Gabriel, placing her palms flat against his chest. His eyes were gentle, as always, with a little bit of confidence swirling in them, which she was happy to see. Clearly, he knew something none of them did.

"Keep the car running," he teased, pecking a quick kiss to her forehead.

"All right Gabe, you're up," Dean groaned as he and Sam dragged the unconscious bartender from the back door, "get in there quick before he realizes somethin's up."

With a nod Gabriel took off through the backdoor, his golden hair changing to gray just as he disappeared from sight. The remaining four lingered for a moment in silence, before following Gabriel's path and stopping to keep hidden in the back room. They could hear the murmur of their conversation, Lucifer's tone ornery and pathetic. Liv watched as Gabriel poured the potion into a bottle before passing it down the bar. Any second now…

"You ready for Apocaland, Liv?" Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled.

"I'm not going," she answered nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving Gabriel.

"What do you mean you're not going?"

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

"Why?" Sam interjected, seeing Dean's jaw begin to twitch.

"He asked me not to. Rowena can use a second pair of hands I'm sure, right?"

"Oh, always if they're yours, dear," Rowena purred in response, bumping her shoulder into Liv's.

"Do you always do whatever he says?" Dean barked, his tone accusatory.

"Rarely," Liv spat, finally moving her gaze to him, "and mind your tone."

Before Dean could answer, Liv turned her attention back to the two archangels in the main area. Gabriel was wiping glasses as Lucifer droned on and on about how he was a victim, same story, different day, but with one simple word her stomach dropped. Jack. Liv waved her hand, gesturing for Rowena to get ready, Sam and Dean readying their own stances to attack if needed.

"What?" Dean breathed, confused by her sudden outburst.

"He fucked up, said Jack's name, get ready," Liv warned, glancing quickly to the redhead on her right.

The butterflies in Liv's stomachs kicked into overdrive as Gabriel coolly tried to right his wrong, his hands never straying from the circles they were doing inside the tumbler. She watched as Lucifer got down off of his stool, rearing to attack and she wondered how the hell they were going to pull this one off, but then he stumbled, collapsing down onto the bar counter. Gabriel smiled as his brother shook his head, trying to shake off whatever fog he was feeling.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Gabriel taunted, getting so much joy out of seeing his brother incapacitated.

"You did something to me," Lucifer slurred, his brain clouding further.

"Yeah, kinda spiked your drink. Think of it as a magical roofie, powerful enough to bring down an archangel —even me."

Suddenly, Gabriel shifted back into his true self, a little relieved smile settling on Liv's face. She always hated when he transformed into other people, she'd never tell him but it was always a little disconcerting. However, there was no denying she was a little happy that the bartender's shirt didn't disappear in the process.

"Hey, brother," Gabriel greeted, his voice smug and proud as he manifested beside Lucifer.

"I killed you," Lucifer quavered, shuffling backwards and pointing his finger.

"Surprise."

Liv laughed as Gabriel shook his hands, that little smirk on his face washed away all the concerns of this particular trip. He'd been right, he had him. When Lucifer darted for the back door, they all ducked, hoping he was too shell shocked from seeing his resurrected brother to notice any of them. Dean and Sam shared a glance, afraid that Gabriel had just let their one shot run escape from the back, but no more than a second later, Lucifer was returning back in through the front. Liv was surprised, she didn't think he had enough grace left in him to be doing elaborate schemes like this, but she was happy he did.

"Welcome back," Gabe greeted again, back to his original position behind the counter, drying glasses once again.

"Whoa…." Lucifer breathed, sitting down on a stool again, "Okay, what the hell did you put in that drink, man?"

It was Rowena's turn now. She pushed her way out, and Liv had to give her credit. She knew the witch was absolutely terrified, but she was out there holding her own with everything she had. She listened as Lucifer looked at her with the same shock he had Gabriel, having also killed her, and she wanted nothing more than to shove a blade through his chest. Even if it didn't kill him, it'd hurt him and feel really, really good for her. Rowena finished off her spell, binding the devil's hands behind him. Gabriel appeared beside Lucifer, shoving him back down on the the stool by his shoulder, waving the golden archangel blade from Dean in his brother's face. Assuming it was now safe, Liv emerged from the back, Lucifer's eyes darting over to her, instantly making her sick.

"Liv! Oh my Dad! It's been so long!" Lucifer choked, the spell still very much in effect, "Still slummin' around with my putz of a brother I see. That's sweet. Nothin' like true love to really make my stomach churn."

"Shut up," Liv spat, coming to stand right beside Gabriel.

"Gabe, get your girl under control. I'd hate for anything to happen to her…"

"Touch her and I'll stab you myself," Gabriel threatened, his nostrils flaring.

"You guys are like… so in love. I can't even. Look at you, finally standing up for something. Only took a million years. I'm proud of you, even if it is for a worthless, pathetic hu-"

Having heard enough, Gabriel slammed the hilt of the blade down on the back of his brother's head, rendering him completely unconscious. He let him slump to the floor, standing with a vengeful scowl as he watched. There were so many things he wish he could do to him, just the tip of the iceberg of the pain and torment he'd cause him throughout the millennia. For stabbing him. For ripping their family apart. For creating the thing that had tortured and abused him even worse than even he'd done. For ripping him away from her. He couldn't feel it, but his hand was shaking as he gripped the blade, his knuckles turning white.

"Baby," he heard her whisper, "hey, relax. Look at me."

Slowly, he turned his head up and to the side, Liv's gentle, happy face greeting him. His nostrils were flared, lips in a thin line with a gaze that would send anyone with some sense packing. Thankfully, she didn't have any and she stuck by his side, eyes locked with his. He could feel the ire beginning to subside as he took in her smile, proud and relieved. Once she knew he was aware of his surroundings, she placed a hand on his arm, coaxing his muscles to release from their contracted position. While he seemed okay, she knew that deep down he was still jumpy and a little reactive, especially when faced with the one thing left he wished he could kill.

"You'll get your chance," she promised, "I'll make sure of it."

"Well, we did it!" he announced, his voice alarmingly jovial.

His tone had Liv right back into a state of nervousness. It was almost menacing. It was a nuance only she would have picked up on, and the alarms were going off. With great ease Gabriel hoisted his brother up by the collar of his shirt, and then threw him across the floor, his body crashing against the door.

"Whoops… slipped," Gabriel chastised, his lips puckering in feigned apology as his head tilted to the side.

Liv watched as Gabriel stalked back over to the limp, crumpled archangel on the floor, his movements stiff and predatory. It'd been a very long time since she'd seen him like this. She saw his fingers dancing along the handle of the blade still wrapped tightly in his hand, his wrist twitching ever so slightly as he held back his desire to plunge it through Lucifer's chest.

"Gabe!" she yelled, hoping to break him of his trance and refocus his attention on something, anything else, "Sam and Dean can get him."

Taking a chance, she began to advance towards him, his gaze still locked onto his target. Slowly, she reached her hand out to cover his and pulled the blade from his grip, sighing in relief as his fingers released it to her. He didn't look back at her, his body was uncharacteristically still and it was all very unsettling. She slipped the blade back into Rowena's hands, who'd been watching on with a hint of fear. She knew what he was; even if he'd never given her a true reason to fear him, he was terrifying.

"Hey," Liv whispered, running her fingers down the back of his hand before grabbing it, "you're uh… you're kind of scaring everyone…"

"Do I scare you?" Gabriel asked, monotoned, his voice a little deeper than normal.

"Right now? A little…"

Even hearing that from her couldn't force the rage from his mind. That was one thing he'd always been mindful of, but right now, it was all-consuming. Fire burned beneath his skin, his chest heaved as the ire weighed every part of him down. She knew she had to get him out, she had to hit a reset button somewhere. With her free hand she reached up to his face, running her fingertips down his cheek before cupping his jaw and guiding him to her lips. Her kiss was soft but strong, showing him that she wasn't going anywhere, afraid or not.

Before she could even process what was happening, her back was pressed into the cool leather of her backseat, her body on high alert from the sudden change in surroundings. It had been a very long time since he'd flown her anywhere, and she'd forgotten just how to balance herself from the abrupt shift in time and place. He returned her affections hard, using her to push the violent fury from his mind. He could tell she was having trouble keeping pace with him, his mouth desperate and hungry as his hands grabbed her hips, digging into the soft skin, but he just couldn't stop.

"Just ask," she instructed as she pulled away for air.

"I'll hurt you," he panted, running his thumb across her cheek, nose nuzzling against hers.

"Sit."

Not willing to wait for him to comply, she pushed against his chest, shifting with him as he sat back. Her knees nestled against the sides of his thighs as his mouth greedily returned to hers, tongue begging for entrance against her lips. She didn't give in, instead she pulled away in favor of taking in the sight of him. His mouth was parted, his dark, reckless eyes shrouded by tousled hair, she loved watching him unravel beneath her. It was never something she took for granted. Slowly, she began pecking his lips again, denying every attempt to deepen their kiss, earning her a frustrated growl from the man at her beck and call. She knew that with him, the best way to help him gain control, was to first take it all away.

"Stop playing games," he grumbled, his fingers sliding up her thighs and squeezing when they reached the top.

"Don't," she demanded, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands from her, "no touching."

Anger and lust swirled in his eyes, making it hard to distinguish which emotion was taking control, but she kept going. He was still too far gone to comprehend her choice but soon she'd have him wound down enough to think straight, if he didn't throw caution to the wind and end her little charade before she could finish. His hands dropped to his sides, his jaw jutting out in frustration as he obeyed her command. A smug little smirk spread out across her lips as she popped the buttons of his shirt free.

"I like this shirt," she complimented, over-enunciating her words, "keep it."

It was his turn to smile now, that power she held over him starting to calm the mania rooting itself in his brain. He tried to focus on little things, the Cupid's bow of her lip, that little scar under her left eye he'd always been enraptured with, the way her legs felt as they trapped him contentedly beneath her, but it wasn't enough.

"I need you," he pleaded, balling his fists as he fought the urge to run his hands up and down her ribs.

"You have me," she vowed, cupping his face in her hands, "forever. Just relax. Let me enjoy my final moments with you."

When she spoke that final sentence, all of the fight against her tease he'd been harnessing vanished. He forgot about Lucifer, revenge and rage, and instead, finally succumbed to her. She saw the change in his features, the hardened stone falling away to reveal the face she'd seen in her dreams for close to a decade.

"There you are," she cooed affectionately, leaning down and pressing her lips to his, "thought I'd lost you there for a second."

The reason for her behavior finally struck him, and he laughed, "How'd I get so lucky?"

Her forehead pressed to his as she giggled through her nose, which he softly kissed, enjoying the way it crinkled up at his affection. Never in his life had he been with someone who understood him, without judgement or question. He would stay curled up in this backseat with her forever if he could, her warmth molded against him as she fought back his demons with her proximity alone. In all of his thousands of years he'd never once thought there was someone out there who could redeem him, fix him, but she'd come. She may have arrived kicking and stabbing, but he'd let her shove a stake through his chest everyday for eternity if it meant he could feel this clear, this free.

"You gonna make me drive home with this, or can we take care of it?" he teased, pushing his lower body up into her.

"I think I can help you out," she suggested, pushing herself up on her knees to give him access to her jeans, "oh, you can touch me now."

"Finally."

The drive back to Lebanon was too short. Both of them fighting the urge to silently wallow in their thoughts. Instead, they kept conversations light with fond memories of the past and hopes for the future. A future neither of them knew would even come. His smile lit up the world in her eyes, while hers gave the galaxies far beyond the one they were in a run for their money in his. Their hands stayed locked together, her head resting against his shoulder, for the entire drive. She'd never been more thankful for a bucket front seat in her entire life.

When the bunker came into view, he slowed, wanting to drag out every possible second. Once they got inside, it was time for a goodbye he wasn't ready for. One he'd never be ready for. His heart dropped into his stomach like an anvil as he put the car into park, his fingers gripping around hers a little tighter. She said nothing, just curled her body against him as far as she could, dreading the hours and days to come.

They could hear the rest of the team talking from the library as they entered the old building, no doubt waiting on them from their delay back at the bar. They'd waited this long, they could wait a few more minutes.

"You better be quick," she mumbled, feeling tears prick at her eyes as she pulled him into her arms.

"Faster than a toupee in a hurricane," he whispered, kissing her temple, letting his lips linger against her skin, "Keep my brother in check, yeah?"

He pulled away slightly, to look down at her, and she nodded in response to his request. Her tears were falling now, cheeks wet and eyes swollen and he wished for once he could say goodbye to her without this feeling. As her fingers wound into his hair, his eyes closed, taking in every facet of the way she felt pressed against him. When she pulled his face down to her own and her lips laid against his, he thought for a moment he wouldn't be crossing over that rift.

"Love you," she breathed against his lips.

"I know," he responded, smiling, "get ready for me. When I get back it's all cards off the table and you on it, sweetheart. Stretch out those hammie's, you're gonna need to be limber."

"Shut up."

A laugh to remember her with, that small, breathy sound sent courage through him.

"One more for good luck," he teased, kissing her softly again.

"You better come back to me," she warned, keeping her fingers gripped in his hair and his face close.

"Have no other intentions."

Doubt was beginning to wreak havoc in his mind. While he'd known that dying was a possibility, it now felt like a probability. He'd fight with everything he had, but when it came down to it, that wasn't very much. His lips crashed down onto hers, his change in pace startling her. Open mouthed and sloppy, he gave her every ounce of love he could muster. If this was it, he wasn't making the same mistake as last time, leaving her without one last kiss, no matter what happened they'd always have this.

"But… if I don't…" he panted, pushing his forehead against hers.

"Don't," she cut off, voice hoarse as she pressed her fingertips against his lips, "don't."

It was time to be realistic. He wasn't walking off again without saying everything that needed to be said. He kissed each of her fingertips softly before pulling her hand away, freeing his mouth to say words he wished he didn't have to.

"If I don't come back," he began as her eyes pinched shut and she wished she could stop the words from coming, "I love you. So much. I never deserved anything like you, never. I fucked up. I did you so wrong, and I'm so sorry. I wish I was stronger, and better, and… I wish I could have given you what you deserve. You deserve so much more… than me. You fixed me, Liv. You took all these broken pieces and put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Everything I am, is yours. Dead or alive."

"You aren't dying, Gabriel," she commanded, "understand me? I don't give a shit what you think. If you fucking die, I'm gonna find you, bring you back and then kill you again myself."

"That's my girl."

"Come back to me."

"I'll always find my way back to you. One way or the other."

He kissed her again, one last time. Her tears were warm against his cheek, reminding him of the damage he'd always inflicted upon her. It was never meant to end this way. When he'd found her in that bar all those years ago, this wasn't where he'd imagined they'd be eleven years later. While at the time he hadn't thought he'd fall head over heels in love with her, he never could have predicted the mess of their lives he'd made.

"God damnit," she cried, her fingers unwilling to release him.

"We're almost to the finish line," he reassured, "then I'm taking you to Mexico, forever."

"Okay."

Guilt washed through him as he watched her face twist in agony, her fingers finally unlocking from his hair. She knew it was time to compose herself, she couldn't face that room full of people with tears in her eyes. Even though she'd let him go, he stayed just as close, tipping her chin up towards him.

"No more crying. You've cried enough over me," he cooed, wiping her cheeks with his thumb.

"Okay," was all she could muster again, her heart shutting down as it prepared to lose him once again.

Time was up. Gabriel slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight against him as they began their walk into the library. Each step was heavier and heavier as their feet carried them through the stone walls. When they reached the group, Rowena was prepping the spell, Lucifer still unconscious, as Sam and Dean waited impatiently. Dean was sitting on the table that Rowena was using, Cas across from them, Sam leaning against the pillar in front of the devil. Liv immediately approached Castiel, pulling herself from Gabriel's embrace.

"Promise me you'll bring him back," she begged, grabbing the angel's hands, "dead or alive."

"Liv…" Castiel began, his voice filled with sympathy.

"Just, promise me… They don't care about him. But you do. Bring him back to me. Please."

"I promise."

She sighed in relief, no matter how this ended, it would end with closure. No mystery, no questions. No matter which way it went, she'd see him one last time. She could feel Gabriel's eyes boring into the back of her head, but she couldn't turn to look at him.

"He's awake," Rowena announced, everyone's attention now turning to him.

"Oh, hey Sam," Lucifer greeted, "Oh, look at this. All the people I love to torture all in the same room. What's the occasion guys?"

Rowena approached with her bowl of ingredients, her steps cautious and calculated. Even when he was bound her fear of him was clear. While Liv wasn't happy to be sidelined, she had a feeling Rowena was relieved to not be alone with Lucifer for any amount of time.

"Ah. Okay. I think I see what's going on. You're planning a trip to save mother Mary and you need my grace. That about it?" Lucifer droned on, his voice grating.

"Good guess," Castiel responded, grabbing Lucifer by his hair to expose his throat.

Castiel carefully cut an incision into the bound angel's neck, his grace beginning to flow freely into the bowl, and when his head was released, the thick stream shrunk into a steady drip. Liv was happy to see her plan executing to flawlessly, Gabriel smiling proudly in her direction.

"Okay, you could've done this back at the bar," Lucifer whined at his brother, "Could've drained me, killed me. What's this really about? Humiliation? Revenge?"

"This was my little contribution," Liv announced proudly, "see we figured out that grace, has a direct correlation with just how long that door stays open," Liv listened on as Rowena recited the incantation and watched as the rift ripped strongly through the air, "so, we're gonna keep you here, all tied up like a bow, so you can feel yourself slowly fade away into nothing. And then, when they get back, maybe Gabe will put you out of your misery."

"Grace on tap," Gabriel added on, "Sorry, bro. Can't argue with her."

"Cool…" Lucifer submitted, eyeing Liv with a murderous gaze, "lemme guess, he'll need permission then? To off me? Please oh merciful Lord…"

"It's more a matter of how quick he does it, actually," Liv seethed in response, "personally I'm rooting for slow and methodical. I could use dinner and a show."

"You two gonna be okay back here?" Sam asked, looking between the two women.

"Aye, we'll be best pals by the end of it I think, won't we?" Rowena quavered, "Go save your mum."

"You ready?" Gabriel asked the younger Winchester.

"Ready," Sam replied before immediately walking through the billowing orange light and disappearing from view.

Castiel followed, Liv's heart racing as she watched each of her friends simply vanish from view. Her heart was pounding, she'd never felt this helpless in her entire life.

As Gabriel approached the portal, he paused, turning back to look at her one last time, hoping and begging to the powers that be that it wouldn't be the last time his eyes met with hers.

"Love you," he bade one final time, before stepping foot into a whole new nightmare.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, predictions, anything like that!

Also, there WILL be a prequel (willows dancing in the wind), it's called Fooled Around and Fell in Love. Should start right shortly after this is done! Estimating around 5-6 more here. Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favorites! Every bit of feedback means so much.


	16. Chapter 16

Time was standing still. Liv and Rowena sat in the library of the bunker, and the silence was unsettling as Lucifer sneered at them, his eyes traveling between the two of them. Liv was one step away from despondent. She'd just sent the love of her life off on some suicide mission into a world she'd never be able to get to if anything happened to him. She'd spend the rest of her life trying, that was for sure, but deep down she knew she'd never get there. It was hard to consider that that could have been the last time he kissed her, or smirked at her or made some crude, sexual joke. He very well could have just told her he loved her for the last time. Now seemed like the time she should be committing him to memory, the sound of his voice, the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his fingertips danced so gently across her body despite being powerful enough to destroy entire civilizations at will. Those were all things she was going to want to remember, needed to remember. She mentally kicked herself for not snapping a single photo of him before he left, her phone had a damn camera on it but the thought of preserving that shit-eating grin forever hadn't passed through her head until now.

"Sidelined eh ladies?" Lucifer mocked, rage burning at Liv's cheeks at the sound of his voice, "Kinda… misogynistic no? Leaving the women behind in the kitchen while the men go off and fight for glory."

Liv rolled her eyes, at this point she wasn't sure which fate was worse, death or being stuck with Lucifer for an extended amount of time. Maybe it was one in the same.

"I'm disappointed in you," he continued, turning his attention onto Liv, "I didn't take you as the type to let your boyfriend order you around. Thought you had more stones than that."

"Do you ever shut up?" Liv snapped, kicking a chair in his direction.

With a shrug and a smug smirk at her failed attempt at hitting him, Lucifer laughed, "Typical Gabe, tryin' to be the hero. Know how many times that's worked? Zero. Kid can't even save his own ass never mind anyone else's."

"Maybe I wanted to stay behind. Marvel in the sight of you all tied up and useless, bleeding out like a pig on a spit."

"Oh, feisty. He always did like the lively ones. Honestly though, now that we're here, I'm glad it happened like this. I think we need to get to know each other better. I mean we are family now, right? I have to make sure you're apt to be around my son-"

"We are not family. Not now, not ever."

The thought sent a wave of nausea into her stomach. She found herself fantasizing about Gabriel finishing him off once and for all while simultaneously wishing he'd been able to do it when he had the chance earlier that morning.

"What? You're my brother's wifey now, that makes us, what do they call it?" Lucifer droned on, his nose wrinkling up in confusion, "In-laws?"

"Absolutely not," she seethed, teeth gritted.

"Accept it sis, you'll see me at Christmas dinners from here on out."

"Not a wifey, one."

"Ah, but you will be! In whatever sense you two figure out. Don't think I can't see into that conflicted, melodramatic head of yours. You're better than that. I see Gabe's little lovesick eyes looking down at you when he said he's gonna marry you."

Lucifer feigned a gag, and Liv fought back the urge to lunge at him, plunge the angel blade tucked into her jacket through his sunken in chest a few times. Like she needed the reminder of that little snippet right now. At the time she'd laughed it off, he was ridiculous and lame and corny, but now she saw an allure to it. Maybe it was just the thought that this eons old bachelor, the party boy, the pornstar for fucks sake, had even considered completely and irrevocably devoting himself to _her_ that had her swooning, but if he really did ask she knew what her answer would be.

You're fucking insufferable," she groaned, not wanting to egg him on further.

"Whoa, geez. Okay dude… that hurts," Lucifer whined, his face overacting offense.

"This is how I die, isn't it? Annoyed to death by Satan himself."

"What a way to go."

Moments ago she missed Gabriel, but now she was cursing his existence. What was he thinking leaving her here with this pompous asshole? It's like he didn't even know her at all. He should have been well aware that being stuck for hours, days on end with Lucifer was going to end badly. One of them was going to end up marred, beaten or dead. Rowena not ending up in the crossfires was her goal at this point.

"I need a drink," Liv stated, turning her attention to the witch watching on to the soap opera with a perturbed gaze, "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes. Please," Rowena groaned in agreement, throwing her head down onto the table.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care, whatever they've got will do just fine."

Spotting the liquor cabinet, Liv ran from the two pairs of prying eyes. Once she was out of sight, her breath huffed out in relief. Everything was spiraling out of control faster than she could reel it back in. Self-destruct mode was very much activated and no matter how many alarms were going off in her head she just couldn't switch it off. She wanted Gabriel. It wasn't some inherent need that she'd waste away without, it was purely an insatiable craving her soul was pleading for. It begged for his arms and his safety and how he'd know exactly what to say right now to make this whole unbearable situation completely tolerable. She wanted his lips and his wandering hands and that soft look he got in his eyes when she did something completely ridiculous, that look that screamed 'you're the most perfect thing I've ever laid my eyes on'. Maybe it came down to solely just wanting to feel… _wanted_. She'd wandered aimlessly her entire life, not quite finding her niche, until that honey-haired Trickster came around and showed her what it felt like to be loved.

Grabbing the first three bottles she could find, Liv headed back into the library and was shocked to find Lucifer silent. Assuming he was just planning his next verbal war with her, Liv placed the three bottles down in front of Rowena and resumed her seat back at the table, propping her feet up onto the table.

"Dealer's choice," Liv sighed, throwing her head back in exasperation.

"You got old, Liv," Lucifer taunted, causing her to groan at the unbearableness of this situation, "Like, really old. What's it been like nine years? Red over here looks better than you and she'd got a couple hundo' on you."

"Jesus Christ," Liv mumbled under her breath, downing the entire glass Rowena had passed to her.

Whiskey. Thank God. Before the tumbler had even hit the table she was already sending it back towards the witch for a refill.

"I mean, gray hairs, wrinkles, I can't even imagine the scars. It's not a good look," Lucifer continued with that nasally tone of his, "I'm shocked he didn't run right past you when he saw you. You've seen some of his former conquests, right? Never knew how he did it… but wow. And then there's you."

"Well Lucy," Liv began, licking the burn of the whiskey off her lips as the devil grimaced at her nickname, "I've heard you're quite the looker yourself these days. I mean, this vessel is cringe-worthy enough, can't imagine what's underneath is much better."

"You don't want to know," Rowena cautioned, smiling as she side-eyed Lucifer.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Liv was really starting to like Rowena. She now saw why the Winchesters had yet to put a bullet in her brain.

"You two are awfully chummy," Lucifer noticed warily, "I don't like it."

"Go on then, keep insulting us poor wee women. Anything to distract yourself from your profound, deeply emasculating humiliation," Rowena tacked on, the smugness in her voice sending a little swell of pride to Liv's heart.

What neither of the women in the room saw, however, was the bindings holding their captive in place flickering as their self-satisfied giggles echoed across the cement walls. They didn't know what he did. Enough rage, enough anger and he didn't need grace to break this pathetic spell-work. One of them would crack. He'd been working on Liv but she was shockingly holding her own against him, maybe it was time to move onto good old Red. When he burst into song, digging through his archives to find the most obnoxious one he knew, their synchronized groan only egged him on further. Just a few more hours, and they'd both be goners.

This world was a nightmare. There was no other word for it. As Gabriel marched on, leading the way for himself, Castiel and the Winchesters, he couldn't help but feel displaced. The rain pelted against his leather jacket, his golden blade dripping as he thanked the universe for keeping Liv at home. This whole place gave him the creeps, and that didn't happen very often, if ever. The ever-present darkness and gloom had him glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, the silence eerie enough to set his instincts on high. So this is what the world would have been like if the Apocalypse had happened. This may be the only instance where he was happy people didn't listen to him. He'd been rooting for this for a little while there.

Castiel stayed in step with his older brother, staying silent as Liv's words echoed in his head. _Dead_ _or_ _alive_. He knew that she wouldn't survive losing him again, getting Gabriel out alive had to be a top priority.

"What'd she say to you?" Gabriel asked from beside him, almost as if he was reading his mind, "Before we left."

"She… she asked me to bring you back, "Castiel confessed, "Dead or alive."

Gabriel's chest constricted at Castiel's disclosure. She was under no illusions, and he knew that, hell he'd probably helped that train of thought along with his little final goodbye monologue he'd given her before taking off. Yet hearing that she'd pleaded for his dead body to be returned twisted his stomach. He pictured her face at the sight of Castiel carrying his limp, bloodied form back into the library, the wretched, soul shattering scream that would erupt from her chest echoed in his head. The ghost of her fingers trailing across his face traced over his skin, he could feel her memorizing his features, the ones he always thought so lowly of being some of her favorites. She'd kiss the round tip of his nose, run her thumb along his bottom lip that sat just a little too deep under his upper one as she'd plead in her head to see his eyes one last time. The thought of her losing him was almost as unbearable as him losing her.

"Gabriel I… I need to ask something of you," Castiel asked nervously, snapping Gabriel out of his turbulent thoughts, "Please just, hear me out."

"Okay…" Gabriel dragged on, eyebrows furrowing.

"Heaven is dying. There are only a handful of angels left in all of existence. We need you help-"

"You already know the answer to this Cas. I'm not leaving her again. Plus, heaven doesn't want me back. As far as they're concerned I'm a screw up. Hell, as far as I'm concerned I'm a screw up."

"Well, heavens been run into the ground by upstanding angels. Perhaps a screw up is just the change we need."

"I can't."

"If heaven dies, Gabriel, the consequences will be monumental. Millions of souls will come crashing down to Earth, vengeful and displaced. Whatever semblance of peace you're considering would be lost. She'd be called back to war and die fighting, just like the rest of us. Except you."

"She isn't dying."

"One day she will, and then what? Where will she go if heaven is obsolete?"

This was not the place or time to be talking about this. Gabriel's nostrils flared as he subdued the reflex to hurl Castiel against the nearest tree by the lapels of that ridiculous jacket he wore for thinking now was a good time to bring up Liv dying. He knew she was going to die one day, she was human after all. What he hadn't planned on was all of his brothers being taken out, leaving him with no one to do the deed for him. No heaven to go to? So what, she was just going to walk around in the veil until someone burned her bones? He'd be damned before anyone took a lighter to her. There was another way to fix this all, there had to be. What did heaven expect him to do? Run the joint?

"Stop. Just, stop! I can't talk about this right now. I can't run heaven, Cas. I can't. You need some grace to fill the tank with, take it. Take all of it for all I care. But I'm not my father. Never was, never will be. Find someone else," Gabriel panicked, his voice frantic.

"There is no one else!" Castiel implored, his desperation growing.

Castiel knew it was hopeless. He wasn't going to leave her behind. Granted, he knew it was a slim chance to begin with but nothing Castiel had said had been untrue. If heaven fell, the world would burn. He glanced behind him, watching as Sam and Dean were deep in conversation as they followed. If heaven fell, Dean would be in danger too. This was an impossible situation, but what obstacle that stood in their way wasn't?

A scream in the distance gained the attention of all four men, all sharing a glance as they formed a small circle.

"Not our world, not our problem, right?" Gabriel shrugged, hoping that these idiots didn't want to play savior to everyone.

The singing had yet to cease. It'd been hours. Liv had her head pressed into the cold wood of the table, the decanter of whiskey practically drained in her right hand. She'd given up on glasses a few hours ago. Her head was swimming, the usually delightful buzz from this much booze couldn't even settle with the American Idol Reject bellowing on and on and on. Such a waste of really good whiskey she was sure Dean was going to be livid she cleaned house of.

"Just kill me now!" she cried, theatrically throwing her head back.

"That can be arranged!" Lucifer chimed, breaking from his tune just long enough to get the words out.

"I need a break."

As she walked from the room, the singing ceased. Figures. How Rowena was keeping her cool through that atrocity was beyond her. If she had some way of making magical ear plugs and wasn't sharing there was going to be hell to pay, that was certain. She meandered her way to the washroom, exhaustion from hours of boredom and anxiety finally kicking in during these moments of peace.

As she waited for the water to warm up, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She had gotten old. She'd never really paid any mind to it before, but after hearing Lucifer dissect each and every one of her flaws they were glowing like beacons now. Maybe it was high time to get a box of dye from the pharmacy, she thought, as she realized those single grays in her temples were colonizing now. Gabriel hadn't seemed to mind any of it, but, she really was no where near the level she knew he was used to. Back in the day, when they'd first met, she'd never considered herself a looker but she saw none of that girl in the reflection staring back at her now. It was truly a wonder Gabriel had even recognized her at all.

Her eyes continued to inspect herself and when they drifted to her neck she noticed one of Gabriel's careless marks he'd left along her throat. No doubt it was from their anger-fueled romp in the back of her car just that morning, they'd certainly thrown all caution to the wind and the evidence was staring her in the face. She ran her fingers over the welt, her chest tightening as her mind focused; the panic she'd been harboring reared its ugly head again. _Gabriel_. The archangel. The Trickster. The man who could fuck her in a rest stop bathroom and still make her feel like a queen, who loved her, above all other things, gray hairs or not. The man who would die for her, that would sit in hell for close to a decade in hopes of keeping her safe. The man she'd let wander off into an unknown world, prepared to die if he needed to, alone. The man that she loved, with every fiber and cell of her being. It was too late now, even if she tried she'd never find him over there. She was stuck here, in limbo, not knowing if she'd ever see him again.

The steam from the running faucet had fogged the mirror she'd been staring into before her thoughts wandered. She shook herself from her wallowing, wiping the condensation from the glass, her worn-down reflection coming into sight once again. Knowing it was time to return, she shut the faucet off, not even bothering to splash her face down as she'd intended, before turning and heading back to the library. Her stomach was growling, but preparing food seemed tedious, there were bigger issues to be concerned with right now.

The closer she got, the more she swore she heard… shouting. She ran, skidding into the library to find Rowena screaming at Lucifer, a handful of his hair locked between her fingers and the ropes of magic restraining him beginning to flicker. Whatever was happening was about to release the devil on them both.

"Rowena! Stop!" Liv warned, but it was too late.

The cords snapped and Liv watched in horror as Lucifer rose to his feet, grabbing the witch by her throat as his eyes blazed red. She was frozen in fear. This whole time she'd been worried about Gabriel dying, she'd never once considered that it might be her kicking the bucket.

"Ah, Red. You shouldn't have made me mad. Step into my office. Livvy, be with you in just a sec," he sneered, his words barely audible over the sounds of Rowena's gasps and chokes.

In a flash the two were suddenly against the wall, the thud echoing through the room. Liv knew she needed to act, and quick, but she saw no real option. She had no weapon handy, she knew no magic, she was stuck. Instincts kicked in however, and she ran towards the devil, willing to do whatever it took to get his hands from Rowena's throat and hopefully give her enough time to do whatever it was that she could.

"You know… you and Gabe, you kicked me when I was down. I didn't have any fight. I didn't have anything to live for. But you… you… you gave me something to fight for again. My boy. So for that, I'm going to be quick-" Lucifer droned on, Liv's hands grabbing his shoulder stopping him short.

"Defendatur!" Rowena called, effectively forcing Lucifer away from her.

What Rowena didn't know, was the passenger he'd taken with him.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, following Castiel down the dark passage after his brother.

Gabriel ran after them, but stopped short as he came beside the small human girl they'd picked up just hours before, his heart stopping. When he looked at her, he didn't see the wayward survivor, all he saw was Liv. His brain begin firing off images and horrors, his head twitching as he fought to keep them at bay. He saw her bloody and lifeless on that warehouse floor, he heard her calling to him just as Sam had for his brother, her voice filled with fear. _Gabriel_! He watched as her lifeless body was dragged down that corridor, the monster's hissing and snarls ricocheting off the walls. _She's_ _not_ _here_. _She's_ _not_ _here_. _She's_ _not_ _here_. He whispered the words under his breath like a mantra, doing his best to control the terror icing his veins as he watched Castiel return empty handed. Sam was gone. Liv would have been gone. He would have failed.

When he saw Dean's face, he felt that sorrow deep in his own heart, and selfishly a small hint of gratitude that it wasn't he who had lost everything. He needed to get home. No more lost orphans, no more side missions, he needed to see her, feel her, again.

"Dean, we should go," Gabriel reasoned, knowing Castiel would never be able to take charge over this situation, "we can't stay here or you're all toast."

Dean glared at the angel, rage and despair mixed into his eyes, "Bet you feel real good about yourself right now, don't you?"

Gabriel looked at him confused, "What?"

"Why can't you save him!? If it was her you'd be barreling down that fucking…"

Gabriel's face fell in shame as Dean's words caught in his throat. Even if he tried, he knew he didn't have the juice.

"Yeah I would, doesn't mean I could fix anything," Gabriel began, keeping his voice level, "I can't, Dean. I didn't even have enough for the spell, what makes you think I can raise the dead?"

Defeat fell across Dean's face as he grabbed Castiel by the shoulders, shoving him out of the way as he lunged at Gabriel. The archangel let himself be tackled by the hunter, their bodies tumbling to the dirt as Dean grabbed two handfuls of his jacket. Gabriel took it, knowing exactly how Dean felt, not like he could hurt him anyway. When a fist connected with his jaw, Gabriel could barely feel a sting, but as Dean's hand came back down Gabriel stopped it with an outstretched palm.

"What is this helping?" Gabriel yelled, "I'm sorry, Dean! But if we don't keep moving, we're gonna lose more than Sam and… whatever his name was."

Castiel came behind them, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder both in comfort and warning that if he continued, his brother was not going to stay this complacent for long. With a snap of his arm, Dean pulled his fist from the angel's grasp and stood, adjusting his backpack and jacket, before silently taking off down the passage alone. Castiel held a hand out for Gabriel, helping him back to his feet before running after the reckless hunter before he got himself killed. Gabriel then looked at the poor human that was stuck in the middle of all of this now, her face was dripping with fear.

"Come on, we gotta go," Gabriel instructed softly, clapping his hand on her shoulder once.

"Who is she?" Maggie asked, slowly letting one foot fall in front of the other as they started down the cave, "the woman, that you would save?"

"Uh… she isn't here. She's back at home."

"She's human?"

"Yeah, she is."

"And you… you love her?"

Gabriel nodded, wondering why she was asking these questions, but as he looked down at her face he saw the confusion and the wonder. She'd been living in a world where angels hunted and murdered humans, something like him was unheard of. They walked in silence from there on, catching up to Dean and Castiel once they'd come out unscathed from the tunnel. Gabriel's thoughts again traveled to the thought of it being her left behind in that wasteland. He swore he could still hear her calling out to him, the sound fuzzy and staticky, like it was coming through on a bad signal. This world was strange, and he needed out.

Her cheek was firmly planted into the wet ground, the rain cold on her skin, a twig poking right at the corner of her eye as she came to. She was on her stomach, laying on the ground outside. That made no sense, she was just in the bunker… As she pushed herself up and opened her eyes her heart damn near stopped. She wasn't in Kansas anymore. This world was void of color, barren and desolate. About thirty feet away she could see the rift, shining brighter than even the sun was, and she took off running towards it. She wasn't stupid, she knew that she'd never make it out of here alive stuck to her own devices. She was weaponless, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she'd freeze to death if some murderous angel or monster didn't find her first. So focused on her destination, she was oblivious to the fact she hadn't come over alone. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm, effectively stopping her from crossing back through to the bunker and her stomach dropped.

"Oh no no, you're with me," Lucifer sneered, "partner."

"Not a chance," she spat in response, pulling on her arm in his grip.

"Uh, you don't have a choice. Like it or not sis, we're in this together now."

With a sharp pull, Lucifer dragged her along beside him, and she knew there was no escape. _Gabe_ … _Gabriel_ …. _GABE_! She called and called but no answer came. Surely he wasn't dead already, right?


	17. Chapter 17

Gabriel never came. The barren trails wound on and on for miles, the cold air freezing her from the inside out as her lungs burned and ached. Lucifer had finally released her once he knew she couldn't escape, when the rift home was far enough behind them that he knew she'd never find it before dropping dead. She trailed behind him, her feet dragging like anchors as the fatigue set in. She regretted her lack of sleep and food in the hours leading up to this.

"What's the hold up? Don't you wanna see little Gabey again before he's…" Lucifer taunted, dragging his thumb across his throat as he twisted his face into a dying grimace.

"He's not gonna die!" Liv spat back, wishing she was close enough to hurl her fist at his nose.

"If Michael comes around he is. A powered up Gabe can't him take on, never mind the pathetic, lovesick state he's in now. He's a goner, honey."

"Shut your mouth."

"Plus, I need you as collateral. My brother's prized possession for my son. He'll take that deal without thinking twice."

"No one's holding your spawn hostage."

"We don't know that! So until we find out, you're with me. Come on sis, put a little pep in that step and let's find our fam!"

This was making perfect sense now. She'd been curious as to why Lucifer was dragging her along with him instead of putting an end to her like she knew he wanted to. She was his brother's human pet who'd been mouthing off to him just moments before the time to strike had hit. Unsure of whether or not to be thankful for his mercy, she urged her feet to keep going. If anyone was going to find Gabriel in this wasteland, it was him. She continued to call out but still no one came. Her eyes scanned the trees, both the feeling of hope and dread mingling as she prayed to see him alive and not splayed across the ground, his wings seared into the dirt.

Lucifer seemed to know where he was going, like he was following a path, which kept her following along complacently. She hated him. For everything he'd done and ripped away from her, for the things he'd done to Gabriel. Yet here she was depending on him to keep her alive. It was some sick, twisted joke. She wanted to burst into tears, but there was only one angel who saw that side of her and it certainly would never be him. He stopped dead in his tracks, holding his hand up signaling her to stop moving. She heard them. The quiet murmur of voices nearby, the cracking of twigs as their feet crunched along the ground.

"Oh thank Dad! I could use a pick me up," Lucifer sighed in relief, her face twisting into confusion, "Don't go runnin' off now, you'll die out there. I hear they don't like humans very much in these parts."

Her heart was hammering as she watched him walk off. Left to her own devices, standing in the middle of the woods, she felt a fear like she'd never felt before. Her breath shook as she exhaled, her body frozen in place, and when the screams erupted from just out of eyeshot, her eyes snapped shut in hopes that when they reopened she'd find herself waking from a whiskey nightmare.

"Gabriel… please… I need you to hear me," she begged under her breath, "baby, please. Help me."

Gabriel never came. Lucifer returned moments later, his eyes glowing red and she despised the relief that washed through her at the sight of him.

"What did you do?" she hissed.

"Got myself a little snack," Lucifer disclosed, rubbing his stomach, "took out a few of Michael's cronies, saved your ass. You're welcome. Now let's go, we're close."

"Close to what?"

"You'll see. Hop to it, little bunny."

"I need a break. I'm tired, and cold and hungry! We've been walking for hours."

"Uh, excuse me, Gabe isn't here right now, please leave your whining at the tone... beeeeeeep."

His voice was absolutely grating. His facial expressions were enough to boil her blood and her physical misery was doing nothing to keep her emotions in check.

"I can't," she groaned, "Seriously, I'm freezing. It's like thirty five degrees and I'm in a t-shirt."

"Okay," he droned, "so doesn't exercise, like, warm you humans up? Walk on missy."

"Why can't you just give me your over-shirt? Not like you need it."

"Because one, that would set the implication that I care. And I don't. Two, you're confusing this whole setup with me wanting you alive, and needing you alive."

"Well I'm gonna be dead here soon either way."

"Are you always this dramatic? How does he put up with you?"

"All those years of practicing with you I'm guessing."

Lifting her lip in a snarl, she plopped down onto the ground, not unlike a toddler tantrum, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She pinched the skin of her tricep, giving one final push that she could wake up from this and be back in the library with a fair-skinned witch and the devil still in chains. Much to her dismay, she remained where she was, with Satan himself staring at her like he wanted to wring her neck until she was blue.

"I could end you right now," he threatened, taking a step back towards her.

"Are you gonna make me ask nicely?" she bargained, her mental state rapidly deteriorating.

"I'm just gonna leave you here. Let someone else take care of it."

"Hope Jack isn't being held captive somewhere by the Rebel Alliance. Cause there goes your leverage then."

Miming a plane crash landing on the ground with her hand had to be the last straw. As she dragged her fingers through the dirt, adding sound effects as she went, she was certain her life would be over in a snap.

"Oh you act like you want me to leave you here. As if finding Lover Boy isn't top priority for you. You need me just as much as I need you," Lucifer theorized, throwing his hands onto his hips.

"He'll find me," she guaranteed.

"If he even knows you're here. Hasn't shown up yet and I'm sure you've called out to him. 'Oh Gabe, please come rescue me from your evil brother, he's holding me hostage… wah wah wah'."

His mimicking tone had her rolling her eyes but his words had her stomach in a knot. He was right. If she didn't stick with him, no one would ever even know she was there. Clearly Gabriel was already dead or there was some missing wire in this alternate universe that made him unable to hear her. She hoped for the second, but couldn't shake the feeling that the first was true.

"Gotcha," he laughed, clapping his hands.

"Looks like we're at a stalemate then," she replied, rising to her feet.

"Oh? How so?"

"You need me in case poor Jack is locked up and I need you to get me to… anyone but you."

"Difference is, one of us has super strength."

"Super strength? What are you twelve? Should I go get your super suit?"

"Okay you know what… you need to relearn your place."

With a snap of his fingers, her mouth was glued shut. Her eyes snapped up to him, wide in anger, as he walked over to her, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her along beside him just as he had before.

"I need to go make a little magic happen, and you're gonna behave, understand?" he patronized, his voice chiming at her like she was a child, "When I come out, I'll have a little gift for you, then we'll be on our way to Gabe and gang. I'll let you see him one last time before I rip that tongue straight out of your disgusting mouth. Can't believe he lets you kiss him with that thing."

Screaming as he tugged at her, the sound muffling in her throat, she fought against his hold. Her thoughts called out again for Gabriel, he had to hear her at some point. Lucifer seemed to think he was still alive, and he'd be able to tell if he wasn't. He was out there, it was just finding him that was seemingly impossible.

Gabriel sat on the decaying log, his thoughts racing as he mindlessly picked apart leaf after leaf. He could hear his nephew, Jack, babbling in the background, searching for a way to bring Sam back, but Gabriel knew there was none. He thought back to the morning, Liv's words dancing around in his head.

" _Give_ _Jack_ _a_ _chance_ ," _she_ _implored_ , " _If_ _the_ _Winchesters_ _are_ _this_ _hell_ _bent_ _on_ _saving_ _him_ , _there's_ _some_ _good_ _in_ _him_."

" _I_ _never_ _said_ _there_ _wasn't_ _good_ _in_ _him_ ," _Gabriel_ _replied_ , _lacing_ _his_ _fingers_ _with_ _hers_ _against_ _his_ _thigh_.

" _No_. _But_ _I_ _know_ _you're_ _thinking_ _it_. _You're_ _gonna_ _take_ _one_ _look_ _at_ _him_ _and_ _just_ _see_ _Lucifer_."

" _No_ _I_ _won't_."

 _However_ , _he_ _knew_ _she_ _was_ _right_. _He'd_ _never_ _even_ _met_ _the_ _kid_ _and_ _he_ _already_ _wanted_ _nothing_ _to_ _do_ _with_ _him_. _It_ _was_ _no_ _fault_ _of_ _Jack's_ , _but_ _it_ _was_ _hard_ _to_ _believe_ _any_ _spawn_ _of_ _his_ _brother_ _hadn't_ _taken_ _a_ _turn_ _for_ _the_ _worse_.

" _Give_ _him_ _a_ _chance_. _For_ _me_?" _she_ _requested_ _again_ , _her_ _voice_ _sweet_ _and_ _soft_.

" _Yeah_ , _yeah_. _Promise_ ," _he_ _muttered_ , _averting_ _his_ _eyes_ _as_ _he_ _dreaded_ _what_ _was_ _to_ _come_.

As much as he tried, he couldn't silence the sound of her screaming his name, the calls still muddled and faint as if she were underwater. Why was he imagining her calling for help? She was safe, holed up back at the bunker, why wouldn't his thoughts just calm down for more than twenty minutes at a time? He raced back to the image of Sam being dragged down that barren passage, the snarls and growls echoing against the walls. It could have been her, it would have been her. She was off her game, they both knew it. She would have been the easiest target, gone before he could even say goodbye.

"Why didn't you bring him back?" Jack's accusatory tone snapped Gabriel from his thoughts.

"I'm not strong enough," Gabriel admitted sadly, watching the young Nephilim's face fall.

Maybe he never would be again. He was seemingly stuck in this half-powered haze, just enough to grace to keep him an angel but not enough to make him worth a damn. _Ineffectual_ , _degenerate_ _little_ _runaway_. Loki's words were ringing truer and truer as the days went on. People were dying, and there was nothing he could do.

Bells began to ring from the entrance to the camp, the same ones that had rung to announce their arrival. The rest of the group turned their attention to the source—clearly whoever this was was unexpected—and that little change perked Gabriel up slightly. He'd burnt down the warding not far from here and panic set in that perhaps he'd opened a door that wasn't meant to be opened. Just more casualties on his conscience.

Shocked gasps traveled like a wave as Sam came into view. He was covered in blood, his own blood, but the gaping wound on his throat was completely healed. As much as he wanted to be thrilled to see Sam walking and breathing again, he knew this wasn't coming without a cost, one they would not be happy to pay. Sam went to embrace his mother, and that's when he saw him. Lucifer. His heart dropped into his stomach as he leapt to his feet. If Lucifer was here, something had gone very awry back home and suddenly the muffled calls to him made perfect sense. She'd been calling for help, and he'd ignored her. His vision began to tunnel, his eyes still locked on his smirking, smug brother as he watched with devious eyes the family reunion happening before them. He had to leave, he needed to get back, to find her. Was she alive? Did she escape somehow? Questions flooded his already overflowing mind and he couldn't even think straight.

As he prepared to take off into a sprint back towards the rift, a familiar mess of brown caught his eye. Tousled and stumbling, she came into view and his breath of relief was audible. Still in his old t-shirt, now covered in dirt, she looked like she'd been through hell and he didn't doubt she had, in fact. When she began to notice she was once again in human company, her gaze lifted from the ground, the familiar, now panicked face she'd been praying for the first thing she focused on. Their eyes went wide in relief as they locked, both taking off into a run towards the other.

"Gabe," she sighed, the breath she'd been holding releasing as her feet began to carry her to him.

The ground crunched beneath their feet, rocks and sticks spraying as they skidded across the dirt. When they met, his arms immediately circled her waist, his knees bending slightly to easily accommodate her leap up into him. Her legs wrapped around his middle as her arms went around his neck and she crushed herself into him, pressing her face into the stubbled skin of his neck. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped at the comfort of being back in his embrace, his warmth slowly easing her frozen limbs.

"Ssshhh," he soothed as each of her ragged exhales against his neck were accompanied by a faint whine, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

She could feel his heart hammering in his chest against her own, the rhythmic thud easing the stress of her past few hours, his thumb running gently up and down coaxing her out of her panicked state. She focused on him; not on Lucifer standing just a few feet away or the blood covered Sam embracing his mother, or even the son of the devil that watched on with curious eyes.

"I missed you," they breathed simultaneously as she pulled her head up to look at him, both of their mouths lifting into small smiles.

Uncaring of the prying eyes, she brushed his hair softly from his face, his head leaning into her touch as he closed his eyes, relishing in the small gesture. For a moment their fears evaporated; they forgot they were in another dimension, a very dangerous one, with two of the most powerful beings to exist standing mere feet away, with another hunting them down. He couldn't wait any longer, his nose crushed into her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers, when her fingers tangled into his hair it took all of his self control to keep himself composed. As always, he wanted to simply lose himself in her, to quell his self-loathing and shortcomings with the feeling of her against him, surrounding him. Her kisses were soft, filled with purpose and longing, only making his desperation grow.

"You're freezing," he noted, pecking one last kiss to the corner of her mouth.

He lowered her gently down to her feet, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders and sliding it on to her. Immediately, she huddled up into it, his warmth still lingering in the sleeves. Her teeth began to chatter, the lingering cold from her long journey to get there was going to take some time to relieve. Cued in to every facet of her wellbeing, as he always was, he wrapped his arms around and pulled her tightly back into his body.

The world droned on around her, but she paid it no mind. She focused on the steady thud in his chest, his gentle arms around her and that familiar, warm, arid smell that would never be replicated by anything on Earth. Every time she thought she'd never see him again, they found their way back to each other. Just like he said. She could hear yelling, but Gabriel was staying silent. Whether that be because he was just as immersed in their reunion as she was or simply because he had nothing to say she wasn't sure, but it made it easier to concentrate on the rise and fall of his breathing. She was beginning to warm up, her body losing that chilled ache she thought would never go away, her head lolling slightly as she gave in to him.

"Dean," Gabriel's voice rumbled against her ear, breaking her from her trance.

"You've got the blade," Dean demanded, urging the angels against each other.

"Stop it," Jack begged softly, his voice pained.

"He's the devil, kill him."

"Stop it!"

Just like that, Jack was gone. Liv could here the sighs coming from Gabriel and Dean, both of their patience wearing thin.

"We'll go look for him," Gabriel offered, needing away from the entire group to ease his annoyance.

They travelled in silence, their fingers linked as they walked through the woods, searching for Jack. She knew she shouldn't be feeling this giddy happiness that was currently working its way through her, but she wasn't about to stop it. Alternate universe or not, she was here with him— and that was all that had ever mattered.

"You're quiet. I don't like when you're quiet, it's suspect" he teased, pulling her against him, briefly unthreading his fingers from hers to throw his arm around her shoulders, wiggling them again to signal for her to bring her hand back up to his.

Responding with only a shrug, she laced her fingers with his on her shoulder, leaning her head down onto him. She envisioned them walking like this, twisted around each other, through markets and down the beach, the ocean waves the only audible sound as he shielded her from the breeze. Instead of the barren ground, it was warm sand and the gloomy, apocalyptic haze was replaced with the golden glow of the sun as it set. It almost felt real.

"Hey…" Gabriel whispered, again dragging her from her dream world.

When she looked up she could see the Nephilim pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. He looked distressed, panicked and a pang of nerves jolted her straight back to reality. Gabriel signaled for her to stay put as he continued to approach his nephew, and she gladly followed his direction. She feared for him, knowing that in his weakened state Jack could probably do some serious damage to him.

"Jack… uh, hey buddy. You okay?" Gabriel asked, stepping closer cautiously.

"What's it like?" Jack barked, his voice harder than his face.

"What's what like?"

"Love."

The question surprised them both. Although they couldn't see each other, their expressions mirrored one another's, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Liv was ever curious, she so desperately wanted to believe that Jack was good. Deep down she knew it was there, but so was pure evil, and the line had to be difficult to toe.

"What do you mean?" Gabriel continued, stopping at arm's length of the boy.

"How do you know you love someone?" Jack questioned, his voice now softer, almost childlike.

"That's a loaded question, kid. I don't think I'm the one to ask."

"You love her."

"Yes…"

"How did you know you loved her?"

For once, Gabriel didn't have an answer. His eyes turned to Liv, her face seemingly just as curious as the kid's was. She smiled at him, and although he didn't have the words for Jack's question, he could feel the answer burning in his heart right then and there.

"I can't answer that, Jack," Gabriel confessed, bringing his attention back to him, "I don't know. It just… happened. One day, I looked at her and I didn't want to live another day without seeing her. My life is better because she's in it. She… knows me. All of me. The good, the bad and the ugly. And she still sticks around. I don't have to hide around her. Bonus, she's uber hot. Why? You already got someone in mind there, Romeo?"

"How do you know she loves you?" Jack continued, face twisted in deep thought.

Fuck if he knew. He despised himself, always had. Despite the conceited façade and over-inflated sense of worth, deep down he loathed himself. He was weak and afraid, he'd abandoned everyone when they needed him the most without so much as a second glance back. He'd killed people, sure they may have deserved some punishment, but not death. He saw that now. The thought that anyone like her would waste their time and efforts on someone like him had always been baffling. She could have anyone, and the world was filled with people far better than he was, but she wanted him. That was something he'd never take for granted.

"She forgives me when I don't deserve to be forgiven," Gabriel finally affirmed, his eyes again shooting over in her direction.

His reason caused her tears to catch in her throat and running to him was purely reflexive. Her arms wrapped around his neck from behind him as she jumped onto her tiptoes to reach and he immediately crouched slightly to ease her embrace. He could hear the quiet whimpers as she pushed back her emotions; he knew what she was feeling, he felt it too.

"He loves you," Jack stayed matter-of-factly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"He does," she responded, confident and strong.

The conviction in her voice was enough to melt the man in her arms. Whenever he felt like a failure, she was always there to pick him up, intentionally or not. This woman was his entire life. He turned his head, pulling her lips into his, kissing her hard.

"I do," he whispered against her, before pressing back in towards her.

There was no drug, drink or magic in the world that could replicate the feeling he felt here, her mouth moving in perfect synchronization with his, her fingers gently scratching against his chest. Knowing his nephew was still looking on, he pulled away, not wanting to let himself get too carried away.

"Her heart beats faster when she's around you," Jack stated, "Is that what love does?"

"Yeah kid," Gabriel chuckled, "It is. Why are you asking me about this?"

"I just… want to understand. I know I'm supposed to love my father-"

"Woah, pause, that is a whole different thing. Two different kinds of love. Let me give you a helpful hint, you don't have to love your family just because they're your family. Ours sucks, big time. You go out and make your own with people _you_ choose. Fill it with people who love you, who help you, who'd give a shit if you died tomorrow. The ones who fight for you everyday, who… open up doors to alternate dimensions to come and find you. You don't have to love your father just because he squirted you out. In fact, I highly recommend not."

"You're my family."

"Yeah, sure. If you want me to be."

"I do. Both of you."

Liv smiled, still draped around Gabriel's neck, "Look, I don't know you yet but if you want my advice, you need to make your own call."

Gabriel's face fell, what was she saying? Make his own call? Give the devil his due? No, that couldn't possibly be it.

"If I didn't make my own decision, I wouldn't be here, with Gabriel," she continued, "If I'd listened to everyone else, I'd still think he was a monster. And he isn't. You need to decide, I know you'll make the right choice."

"You think my father can be good?" Jack inquired, his voice slightly hopeful.

"I don't know, Jack. But if anyone can make him want to be better, it's you."

Cautiously, she pulled herself away from Gabriel and stood in before the very confused boy in front of them. She knew Gabriel wouldn't be pleased with what she'd said, but it was the truth. She had faith in this kid, clearly the Winchesters influence had made a significant impact.

"Cas and Sam and Dean, they love you Jack, trust me," she went on, "I've seen it. I don't know if Lucifer does, or even if he can, but you need to just listen to him. For your own sake. You don't want to be stuck wondering for the rest of your life. We're all here to help you."

With a nod and a smile, Jack vanished again. Gabriel sighed, he'd gone to find his father no doubt, which was the opposite of what he was intending to make happen.

"I don't wanna hear it," she snapped, already knowing what he was thinking, "You know I'm right."

Just because she was right didn't make it… right. If the kid's father was anyone but Lucifer this would have been a good thing, but the consequences of those two joining forces would be catastrophic. He stayed silent, not willing to argue with her just yet, if Jack started to favor Lucifer, however, he'd be forced to show her the error in her ways. She didn't move, not even to look at him. Clearly she was thinking about something and it couldn't possibly be good.

"Am I… did I get old?" she finally blurted out, smoothing her hands over her windswept, messy hair, Lucifer's insults still ringing in her ears

"Uh… is this a trick question? Gabriel replied cautiously, this really could go either way and the wrong way would probably end very badly.

"No. I look older, right?"

"Yeah… that's kinda what happens."

"Figured."

"What is happening right now? Why are you asking me this? Of course you look older, it's been nine freakin' years."

"I look horrible."

As he reached out to grab her arm his face twisted, confounded by this sudden judgement of herself. He spun her around to face him, looking her up and down once before smirking at her.

"No you don't," he assured, running his thumb along her cheek.

"I'm nowhere near your standards anymore," she condescended, rolling her eyes.

"My _standards_? Didn't know I had any. Please, enlighten me."

"Like, ten years my junior for one."

"Where'd you get these idiotic assumptions from?"

"They're not idiotic!"

"They are. Answer me."

"Your brother…"

"Who is the last person you should be listening to about anything, so you're losing credibility here. What did he say?"

"He just… made a few good points about me not quite… being up to par…"

He couldn't listen to this. He didn't even want to entertain it. A few hours with that vile poison and she was doubting every facet of herself. She looked different, it was the first thing he'd noticed, his heart aching that he wasn't there to see the changes as they came. He'd tried to silently show her that he knew, and he didn't care. He liked them, they were her. She wasn't the same person anymore and neither was he, it was ridiculous to even have to assure her of this.

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed over the crow's feet by her eyes when her eyes snapped shut. Heat began to pool in her belly as his tongue slid between her lips, she almost forgot they were in the middle of the woods. When his free hand went to the button of her jeans, snapping it open, she took too long on deciding whether to not to stop him. His fingers grazed over that familiar spot he knew so well and her resolve was lost. She needed something good, so did he.

"Gabe…" she whined, breaking their kiss.

"Is that protest or pleading?" he appealed, slowing to an agonizing, teasing pace.

All she could do was groan, grabbing his forearm and pressing down, urging him to continue. She felt his breathy laugh huff out against her mouth, and when she went to devour his mouth again, he pulled his face away.

"Tell me what he said," Gabriel demanded, his eyes dark.

"All of your other… other women, were young and… beautiful… I'm not either of those things," she panted, "My hair's turning gray… and my face… is wrinkling… and scars… so many new ones…"

His anger grew by the second. Quickly, he spun her around by her hips, leaving her torturously abandoned. She whined at the loss of his ministrations, but quickly yelped as she pulled her tightly back towards him, pressing his arousal into her.

"Does it feel like I give a damn?" he growled, continuing to press further into her, "or do I need to convince you some more?"

"I don't… I don't know…" she mumbled, her brain short circuiting.

Shoving her jeans down just enough to give himself more range of motion, he set back to work. It didn't take long to work her back into a frenzy, clearly their time apart had taken a toll. He'd never tire of how ardently she responded to him, as if he was the only being on Earth that could do these things to her. According to her he was, actually. She threw her head back over his shoulder, her quiet moans and whimpers falling directly into his ear now, sending little shockwaves down his body. When her mouth captured his in hard, sloppy kisses, his knees buckled. It was an awkward position, her neck craning at an uncomfortable angle, but the pleasure he brought her far outweighed the discomfort.

As her crescendo hit, he swallowed down her desperate sounds and held her around her waist as she contracted, her feet giving out as her bliss washed through her. Her chest was heaving against his arm, but it only took her seconds to compose herself, in fact she may have gained her head back faster than he did. No sooner than when he'd pulled his hand from her jeans did she spin and sink to her knees, working his own zipper open faster than he could process her motions. When her lips locked around him he groaned out in bliss.

"Fuck," he whined, trying to find a power to stop her that wasn't showing itself.

Typically, he would never let her do this, especially in this vulnerable a position. He never liked her on her knees for him, it didn't feel right, although he certainly appreciated being on his for her. He'd always been a giver not a taker and nothing had changed, but this felt so damn good. Something in him was different, it was craving this attention from her, this showing of complete trust and adoration. Nobody else trusted him, but she did.

"Relax," she cooed, "just let me make you feel good for once."

He hadn't noticed how tense he was, his thighs rock hard beneath her palms as he fought giving in to her.

"Isn't that my line?" he laughed, finding their role reversal amusing.

"Hmmm."

Her hum vibrated through him, only increasing the pleasure she was capable of giving him. She continued her steady pace, the fire building in his belly. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, hers locked on his face as she watched his expressions, adjusting as she needed to when a certain sound or twitch escaped. His fingers were laced in her hair, softly scratching at her scalp in gratitude, never forceful, as he surrendered to her completely. Faster than even she thought, his sounds became more pitiful as he felt his release impending..

"Shit…" he hissed, and she felt his fingers tighten, tugging on her head slightly.

Mouth hanging open and eyes snapped shut, he was a wonder to behold. The satisfaction she got from giving him this swelled in her. She didn't care that anyone could walk by, just that for these few minutes he felt a modicum of relief. She didn't understand why he always stopped her when clearly he enjoyed it, and she took advantage of the chance to make him feel this way. He didn't hide the effect she had on him, keening and writhing under her touch, if she was going to be vulnerable than so was he.

Groaning, he pulled her mouth from him and finished himself with a tight fist. She stayed below him, peppering the exposed skin of his stomach with light, feathering kisses as he panted, one hand still wound into her brown waves. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him, looking flawless and happy in his shirt and jacket and he was certain he'd never laid eyes on something more beautiful in his entire life.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, fixing the buttons on her own pants as she did, before gathering his bottom lip between hers, the perfect transition from cloud nine back to this miserable pit of despair. She welcomed him back with reverence and a gentleness that only he could pull from her. To think that she had even considered not being up to his standards was asinine, she was the standard.

"You blow every criterion out of the water," he complimented, kissing her again.

"Gray hair and all?" she snarked, wrapping her arms around his middle in a tight, lazy hug.

"Hells yeah. You'll be my little silver vixen here soon."

"At this rate people will start asking if you're my kid by the time I'm forty."

"I think you're forgetting I have the supreme power of changing my own appearance. Don't you worry sweetheart, we'll be old and gray together."

Trying to imagine what he'd look like if he aged thirty years, she laughed. He'd still be the best looking guy around, for that she was certain. He nodded in the direction of the camp, signaling it was time to go back. As he slung his arm around her shoulders, she wrapped hers around his waist, their feet marching in cadence as they headed back down the dirt path. The mission was complete, they'd found Jack, found Mary, and it had all seemed just a little too easy, but they were never ones to complain.

"Think it's time to go home," he mused, pressing a kiss to her head, "can't believe we pulled this off."

She smiled, turning her head up to look at him. It was time to go home, time for a new life, time for him. One more walk through the woods and then they'd be free.


	18. Chapter 18

When Gabriel and Liv reached the camp, Jack was still nowhere to be found. Neither was Lucifer. Gabriel's jaw tightened as he scanned the area for them, his annoyance at Liv's urging to the young, very impressionable Nephilim resurfacing. How could she have been so stupid? Did she not understand the implications of those two teaming up? He wanted to walk off and say not his circus, not his monkeys, but maybe this was somewhat his issue. She'd made it his issue.

"Hey, did you find him?" Sam asked, Dean and Mary following close behind.

"Uh, yeah," Gabriel admitted, his face falling, "then we lost him again."

"Shocker…" Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes.

The annoyance now was only growing at Dean's reaction. He'd always treated Gabriel like a burden, a fuck up, like everything he did was wrong. He wanted to go home, to get away from his family, the Winchesters, this miserable, dying universe. It was wearing on him, every nerve fraying with each passing second.

"So, new plan," Dean barked, causing Gabriel's nostrils to flare, "We have a few more people we're bringing across. We're gonna go get 'em a little ways down the road at the main camp and then caravan back to the rift somehow."

"How many?" Liv chimed in.

"We got about twenty five more."

"Wait.. what?" Gabriel snapped, pulling himself completely from Liv's grasp, "Oh no. I didn't sign up for this. It was get mom, get the kid, go home. That was it. Done deal."

"Mom won't come without everyone else," Sam confessed, his face falling.

"Well that's her issue then. We offered."

"We aren't leaving without her," Dean growled, his face hardening as he looked at the archangel.

"I am. Bye."

"Gabe, wait," Liv sounded, grabbing his bicep before he could take a step.

"No! I'm going home. We are going home."

"I'm gonna help."

Always the martyr. Why was she always so incapable of leaving those three idiots to sweep up their own messes was beyond him. Didn't she want to go home? They'd literally just spent the twenty minute walk back to the group fantasizing about what was to come in just a few short hours, now here she was offering up both of their lives, again. This shouldn't matter to her, it never should have.

"Liv, this isn't our mess," he pleaded, pulling gently on her grip, his voice filled with desperation.

"We came here to help, and I'm seeing it through," she committed, heavy with guilt.

"You aren't even supposed to be here."

"Well, I am now. And I'm staying 'til it's done. Are you staying with me?"

Gabriel pursed his lips as he averted his gaze. She knew exactly how to play her chips, of course he wasn't going to leave without her and she knew it. Was everything they'd been planning just a ruse? At this point, he wasn't really sure they'd ever leave this life of hers, no matter how many times she said she wanted to.

"Yeah," he sighed, "don't have a choice, now do I?"

Rougher than he intended, he ripped his arm free of her grip and stalked off. There was another mess of hers needing his attention. Liv watched him as he left, his posture stiff, and she knew he was angry. Rightfully so, she knew she'd forced his hand, but the thought of leaving Castiel and the Winchesters in their hour of need again just wasn't going to weigh on her conscience well. Neither was Gabriel being upset with her. This was an impossible situation —one she wasn't going to win.

"Cas, hey. Any update on Jack?" Sam asked, Liv's heart jumping at the sight of her friend.

"He's back, " Castiel replied, his voice less than thrilled.

"Great. Where is he?"

"He's with Lucifer."

Castiel's face turned desperate while Liv tried to mask the blame threatening to bloom across her features.

"Gabriel is… keeping an eye," Castiel continued, "Liv can I… can I talk to you?"

"Sure, Cas," she replied, nervous.

Did he know? Did Gabriel tell him this was all her doing? That she'd encouraged Jack to talk to his father? She couldn't bear the thought of Castiel being upset with her, especially not with Gabriel already less than thrilled.

"I need your help," he pressed, pulling her away from the group lightly by her arm, "Heaven is dying."

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?" she inquired, face twisting in confusion.

"We need Gabriel."

Her heart fell into her stomach. This explained everything. He had to leave _again_. Just another disaster pulling them apart.

"What do you mean you need Gabriel?" she snapped, harsher than she intended.

"He's the only one who can save it. We need an archangel," Castiel divulged, "We need him to make more angels. There aren't enough of us to keep heaven powered. Soon it will shut down, and all of its souls will be forced to Earth. Billions of them."

There was no argument outside of her own selfish desires that she could think of. Her gaze fell away from the trench-coated angel, dejected, tears brimming over. This explained everything. Why he was in such a rush to get home, to get time. He had none. Once they returned, it was back to separation and pain. Again, her naivety had won out, thinking they could have the life they so desperately wanted. Neither one of them would ever be free of what they truly were. Soldiers, pawns, pieces of a puzzle much larger than the both of them.

"He won't go," Castiel blurted out, Liv's heart skipping a beat as her eyes snapped back to him, "He won't leave you."

The revelation caused her mouth to hang agape. The world was potentially in the balance, and he'd chosen her. Cas needed her to convince him to go, but what if she didn't want him to? At what point did she say, fuck the world, I'm done? How much more could the universe possibly take from her? Just when she thought she'd given everything, it came knocking for something else. How were some given the world and others expected to sacrifice every glimmer of hope they'd ever been taunted with?

"I won't do it," she fumed, not even needing Castiel to make his request, "I won't convince him. We've given _enough_."

"I know you have," he sympathized, "I wouldn't ask, if there were any other way."

"I can't, Cas. You understand, right? I can't watch him walk away again. I can't, I'm sorry."

"Liv… please. It wouldn't be forever. He's safe in heaven-"

"I said no."

The pair stood in awkward silence. Castiel knew he'd met another dead end, she wouldn't budge. Neither would Gabriel. Liv needed to see him. She didn't care that he was angry with her, even in his irritation he'd settle the war between what was right and wrong raging on in her head. She knew that he was needed, sending him would be what was right, but she needed him just as much. Her self-interest was wrong, but clearly he wanted this as much as she did. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want the responsibility. He wanted peace.

Without another word, she walked off, hoping she was heading in the right direction. She had not a clue where Gabriel was spying on his brother and nephew, but she'd find him. Being alone with her thoughts was dangerous; things tended to skew and over-exaggerate when her emotions were so unchecked. Gabriel was angry with her, Castiel now too, Sam and Dean had thrown triple the amount of weight on everyone's shoulders and now the guilt of keeping Gabriel both here in Apocaland and away from a dire task all swirled in her brain, and the basin was overflowing.

She'd wandered off without even noticing where she was heading, but a familiar mess of dark blonde hair caught her eye, Gabriel. He didn't notice her, his attention still focused on the two people twenty feet away, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they chatted.

"What're you doing?" Liv asked despite already knowing the answer, approaching him slowly.

"Watching Jack," he responded flatly, not even turning his attention to her.

"Why?"

"Making sure Lucifer doesn't win him over."

"Seriously?"

"That is a duo we do not want even considering pairing up. Obviously you don't understand the severity of the situation."

"Are you still mad about that?"

Why she was pressing each of his buttons, she wasn't sure. It was almost as if she wanted him angry with her, that somehow coping with these added burdens was easier if he wanted nothing to do with her. Which of course was the opposite of the truth and what she wanted.

"You have no idea what you could have potentially put into motion," he scolded, his soft tone poking at the anxiety-induced bear waking in her head.

"Well it was true," she spat, one half of her head chastising the other for allowing the words to come out in that tone.

"Not really!"

"Yes really! You were the trickster, half the hunters on the damn globe were looking for you. And I was fucking you!"

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Because one, I'm not really the trickster. Two, the trickster and _Satan_ , not even on the same level. And three, you're a human. We can't team up and level the world with a mere thought."

"We could make a Nephilim who could though."

"Irrelevant. I would never let that happen. My swimmers are locked deep, deep down never to see the light of day. Shooting blanks for eons over here, thank you very much."

She was losing this argument and she knew it. A normal person would have given in, apologized and went on with their day, but not her. She considered for a moment if he'd been anticipating this, it wasn't his first rodeo with her and her skewed mindset, but he was also in his own mental turmoil. This was just a catalyst waiting to go off.

"I believe in him," Liv assured, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Jack? Or Lucifer? It's hard to tell at this point," he criticized, finally turning his head to look at her.

"Don't be stupid."

"No. You don't believe in him. You believe in the Winchester's and Castiel's influence on him. You think since they 'raised' him for a few months he's gonna be some goody-two-shoes who does no wrong."

"Maybe so. Doesn't change anything. I'd still tell him the same thing.

"Yeah, well you better be right."

"What's your problem?"

"My problem?"

His problem was being here. Her making him stay, forcing him by using her own safety and wellbeing as ransom. This place gave him the creeps, it wasn't right. The sinking feeling in his chest grew deeper by the hour. Every minute left in this wasteland was one minute closer to a disaster he couldn't foresee, but he knew was coming.

"I don't want to be here, Liv!" he fumed, "I want to go home. I'm so _over_ putting my ass on the line for things that have little to no effect on me. We could walk back to that rift right now and go home. But no, you call the shots."

"You're free to go," she seethed.

"Don't. Don't play these games with me right now. And stop acting like you want me to leave, or I will."

Her tongue caught in her mouth as tears fought to push through. Her eyes finally fell, it was time to accept defeat.

"You're the one who said you wanted out, but here you are dragging yourself, and me, back into every possible shitshow that offers itself up," he continued, "You don't wanna stop? Fine! I'll drive around the country with you hunting every vampire and ghoul we can find 'til you're seventy! I don't care. I just want to do it in _our_ _world_."

"I do want out," she maintained, voice meek and wary.

"Then what's the hold up?"

"They're my friends."

"Oh... sweetheart. They really aren't. I'll give you Cas, but Sam and Dean? No. They don't give a shit about you or me."

"Cas told me about heaven."

"Did he now."

"Why won't you go?"

"Because you are my priority! You are! Not heaven, not the Winchesters, not even myself for fucks sake! Clearly, that's a one way road though. Because here we are."

That did her in. Her bottom lip began to quiver as his words and gaze threw his unspoken blame at her. She felt small and insignificant under his scrutiny, but her decision remained the same.

"I gave them my word," she muttered, keeping her eyes on him although every instinct was screaming to look away.

"So what?!" he yelled, "This isn't about chivalry and bullshit egos! People are dying, Liv!"

His raspy scream startled her. It was desperate and impatient, it was the sound of a man running out of options. He turned his back to her again, biting at his bottom lip to hold back his tongue. He wanted to scream again, try and scare some sense into her, but he knew it was useless. This was dangerous. They could die, or get stuck here. Lucifer's word wasn't worth a damn, he didn't care if his brother had claimed the door would stay open for however many hours, he wasn't buying it.

"I'm sorry," she lamented from behind him, and he could hear the difficulty of her decision in her voice, "I'm not… I'm not choosing them over you, over us. If that's what you think…"

"That's what it feels like," he admitted, dejected and broken.

Unable to be in this conversation with a level head, Gabriel walked off. He could hear her sigh in frustration, well aware of the strain he was putting on her, but at the moment unable to fight past his own betrayed feelings to care. Expecting her to call out to him, her silence only stoked the fire. So she was just going to let him leave. Good to know. Between defending his brother, choosing to stay in this hellhole instead of going to start their lives together and now, getting nothing but a groan of irritation as he left, Gabriel was furious. He walked until silence overcame him, alone with his thoughts and anger, which was battle in and of itself.

Liv dragged herself slowly back to the camp. There was no winning in this impossible situation. One way or the other, someone was going to end up angry with her. If she left, the Winchesters and Cas would be on the receiving end of her abandonment once again. If she stayed, Gabriel was going to be upset for being forced to stay with her. She understood his reasoning, but it didn't change the fact that she had a responsibility to be here and help.

"It's time to go, where's Gabe?" Dean barked as soon as she was within earshot.

"I don't know," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"What do you mean you don't know? Aren't you two attached at the hip? Literally…"

"He walked off."

"Well get his ass back here."

Now she was regretting this decision. Home sounded like a substantially better option than being ordered around by Dean fucking Winchester. She trudged off to the opposite side of the decaying building she'd walked through with Lucifer only hours before, hoping that Gabriel would listen so they could get this over with.

"Gabe, it's time to go," she sighed, not ready to face him, but he never came, "Gabriel?"

"What're you doing over here by yourself?" his voice rang out from behind her as he rounded the corner.

"Calling for you."

"Oh… uh, angel radio is a little wonky. I can't hear you. I found the group, Dean said it's time to go."

Yeah, she was aware. He kept his distance, his hands in his pockets with his lips tucked up into each other. He looked better, normal, not so furious. She kept her eyes on him until his lifted to lock with hers, her gaze quickly averting in a poor attempt to prevent him from seeing her staring at him.

"I love you, you know," he called out, smirking, "even if you are a stubborn pain in the ass."

That wasn't what she was expecting. Her heart jumped into her throat at his words, but she kept her eyes on the ground.

"I realized that… I'm getting mad at the things I love about you," he continued, chuckling lightly, "You're hard headed. You keep your promises. You don't give up on people, even when they deserve it. You're everything I'm not. I'm with you, sweetheart, even though I don't agree with it. I'm gonna fight your fight. But you gotta tell me why. Why does this matter so much?"

"I have a lot of guilt, Gabe," she confessed, and he nodded, he knew the feeling, "I left them, after you disappeared. I can't do it again. Not now."

"Okay."

With her eyes locked on the ground, she didn't see him approach, but when his arms slid around her waist she sighed in relief. She wrapped her arms around his, hugging him as she pressed her head into his shoulder. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he held her in a silent embrace.

"Thank you," she murmured against him, breathing deeply as a little relief washed over her.

"Mhmm," he hummed, and she knew he was still very apprehensive about the entire arrangement, "don't make me regret it."

"Once we're home, I'm all yours. Promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

Shifting her head slightly, she leaned up to press a kiss to his throat. If she was committing herself to anyone for the rest of her life, she was thankful it was him. He tried. He always had. He took all of her blows with finesse and a patience she was almost certain was beyond a human's capabilities. He didn't move, waiting for her to pull away first was always how it worked, especially when she was upset. His stubble pressed into her forehead as she stayed nuzzled into his neck, for a moment they weren't in an alternate universe with yet another insurmountable obstacle before them, they were just together. Knowing he was on her side made the mountain just a little less steep, but the she knew the hardest parts were still yet to come.

"Come on, hop on," he urged as she began to pull away, turning his back, "I like you all pressed up against me. Keeps me in the perfect state of hot and bothered."

"I think you're supposed to be focusing," she chided with a smirk, running her hands up his back and around the tops of his shoulders, "not getting hot and bothered"

"I'm an exceptional multitasker."

Laughing, she jumped up onto his back, his arms linking under her knees as hers wrapped around his neck. She couldn't deny she was happy to be hitching a ride for a little while, her trek through the forests with Lucifer had left her weary, and being curled up around him kept the bite of the cold at bay. Plus, the gentle brush of his hair against her cheek and sway of his bow legged walk calmed the storm raging in her mind. He was effortless, he was easy, and he reminded her that life wasn't always a battle, sometimes it was okay to roll with the punches.

As the group traveled down the paths leading to the base camp, Liv felt herself dozing off, her head lolling down onto Gabriel's. Every time she did, she felt his grip against her thighs tighten, readying himself to support her should she fall limp and asleep.

"You can sleep if you want," he whispered, turning his cheek into her nose, "I got ya."

"Hmmm," she whined against him, pecking her lips lightly to his cheekbone, "tempting."

"Someone needs to go ahead and scout!" Dean called from the front of the caravan, "Gabe? Cas?"

"Or not," Gabriel groaned, rolling his eyes.

Gently, he placed her back on her feet, keeping a hand on her waist until she was steady. His eyes were intent on her, eyebrows furrowed in concern as she shook the half-asleep haze from her head. She linked her fingers with his against her hip, taking a deep breath in as she nodded, the cloud slowly dissipating.

"I'll be right back," he bade, kissing her temple, "stay with… Sam and Dean, I guess."

The disdain in his voice made her laugh, his pursed lips and skeptical eyes only adding to the effect. He kissed her quickly, tapping her bottom once before walking off, a goodbye wasn't necessary. He'd be right back. She watched him walk away, shoulder to shoulder with Cas, his blade at the ready. Her attention then turned to Jack and Lucifer as the group began following the angels down the path. Jack was still intently listening, and she could see the Winchesters growing more and more paranoid as the boy bonded with his father.

As Gabriel and Cas walked on, he could feel the awkward silence that had settled between them. Castiel was no doubt still upset that Gabriel was refusing to help with heaven's impotence, and Gabriel was a little peeved that he'd thought to get Liv involved.

"Why'd you tell her?" Gabriel asked, keeping his tone level.

"I was hoping she would talk some sense into you," Castiel snapped back, side-eyeing his brother.

"Leave her out of it."

"It's her world that's being threatened to go up in flames. A world she's spent years trying to protect."

"Consider us retired."

"Is that you speaking, or her?"

Gabriel swung around, pointing the tip of his blade into Castiel's chest to stop him in his tracks, "Don't you dare for one second think I force her into anything. Ever."

Castiel's eyes softened, he knew that Gabriel had never been coercive towards her, if anything it was the other way around. He nodded, Gabriel pulling his blade away from him as he did.

"You head back, I'm just gonna check around this corner," Gabriel instructed, nodding his head to the heavily thicketed clearing to the left.

Expecting to find nothing, Gabriel turned and wandered off around the corner. As he walked, he fantasized about what life would be in less than a day. Sunsets, margaritas and lazy mornings for the rest of their lives. He could practically smell the ocean breeze and see her perfect thighs peaking out from some skimpy summer dress he'd pick out and pray to his father she'd wear. She would, she wouldn't admit it, but she liked them.

A twig snapping turned his attention to the right, blade squaring up as he readied to fight, but the sight instead caused him to wrinkle his face in confusion. Six crows sat pecking at the ground, which was bizarre because he had yet to see one living creature besides the few surviving humans since he'd arrived. He sat and watched in awed reverence as they remained seemingly unaware of his presence only a few feet away, clearly very desensitized, as most were in this wasteland. He ignored the dread pouring into his thoughts, brushing it off as the effect of this world. When a louder snap echoed through the clearing, he didn't even wait to see what it was. He could sense it. Them.

"Shit!" he hissed under his breath, taking off in a run back to the unsuspecting group walking down the middle of the road.

His legs couldn't carry him fast enough, his chest aching as the cold air filled his lungs, branches whipping him as he scrambled through the bushes and brush. He had to beat them there, if he didn't the entire group would surely be turned to dust, literally.

"Angels!" Gabriel screamed as he turned the bend back onto the main pass, his eyes falling to the unscathed group as he went.

Liv's eyes jumped up, seeing Gabriel frantically running towards her, her heart beginning to pound as the group began to panic. She raised the gun she was holding onto her shoulder, aiming at the open space before them. When Gabriel reached the group, he immediately placed himself in front of her, holding one arm out to keep him behind her as his other raised his blade in front of him.

"You know I can't shoot with you in front of me," she chided, scooting to the side to give herself a clear shot.

He glared at her from over his shoulder before both of their attentions turned to the small unit of men dressed in tactical gear advancing. When their eyes fell to Liv, Gabriel swore their faces ticked in confusion.

"Hey! Right there!" the leader called out, the two groups pausing for a stare down, "Kill them, on my command."

Gabriel's heart dropped, as he planned to grab Liv and fly them off before any harm could come to her, the entire group of their enemies disintegrated to dust. Gabriel and Liv shared a confused glance, she looked to him as if he had done it, and he responded with a short shake of his head and a shrug. Their eyes then traveled to Lucifer, who stood smiling smugly, his hand still raised in a snap position. Gabriel's eyes rolled as Liv groaned, lowering her gun back down to her hip.

"Oh yeah, about the cuffs," Lucifer drawled, "I knew they wouldn't hold me in this world. Long story short, I didn't want your impotence to get awkward, so I just went along. You're welcome. Welcome. Right? Don't… thank me at once. See. Team player."

As Lucifer nudged Jack with his elbow, Liv's head fell to Gabriel's shoulder as she groaned in annoyance. His arm slung over her shoulder as he pulled her away, not wanting to get into it with his brother. Of course he was playing along with games just to reduce Gabriel farther than he already was. Liv could sense his change in demeanor, she saw his shoulders slump forward and his head turn away ashamed. She hated that having his family around brought out these feelings in him, feelings of worthlessness and weakness. He was neither of those things. He'd been the one strong enough to rebel, to love his father's creation, to fight for them. To die for them.

"I love you," she whispered into his ear, pulling his head down gently to press a kiss to his cheek.

Of course she did. She was the lover of broken things. When she touched him, it was akin to when she ran her fingers over the cracked glass of a photo frame, jagged, and one wrong twitch away from scarring. Her fingers moved to the curls behind his ears, mindlessly weaving them between her fingers like the petals of a strewn rose. The haven of the forgotten. He'd never been worth a damn to anyone else until her. He'd give his life to repay that debt.

"I don't know why," he croaked, her face falling from his response.

Before she could find a moment to pull him aside, they were back on their way to main base. They moved in silence, Liv not wanting to have any form of heartfelt conversation with Lucifer within earshot, knowing it would be nothing but cannon fodder at some point. She felt blame, he wouldn't even be here if it weren't for her, feeling this pain, reliving his traumatic family years. The longer they stayed, the more she regretted ever making this choice; for someone who was supposed to protect him she'd done a shitty job of it… their entire relationship.

The Singer Salvage sign came into view, welcoming them to another safe zone. Gabriel immediately tore off to the side, heading towards a graveyard of abandoned vehicles, and Liv followed, despite wondering if Singer Salvage belonged to… Bobby Singer. It had to. She found Gabriel tossing stones against the rusted, metal, each ping a little harder than the last.

"Gabe? Hey," she soothed, taking a seat in the back of an old van beside him, "will you talk to me?"

"About?" he grunted, keeping his focus on his mind numbing task.

"Anything. I just want to hear you talk."

"What happened, Liv? How did you get here?"

"Turns out, Lucifer gets a little juice from being angry. Broke the bonds, attacked Rowena. She got him off of her, but kinda caught me in the crosswinds and I shot over with him. He kept me around for leverage if Jack was being held somewhere, me for him. With you."

"Smart play."

All along, she'd known that he would have taken that deal, but hearing him admit it out loud was different. She'd have taken any deal to save him, too; she'd have sold her soul to get him out of hell had she known he was there.

"Can we go back to that cabana? In Belize?" she inquired, lightening her tone.

"Sure. If that's where you wanna go," he answered, voice still flat and emotionless.

"How can I help, baby?"

Finally, he turned to look at her and he could tell his suffering was waning on her. He could hear Lucifer jabbering on behind them, Jack still in tow, leaving him no opportunity to ease her mind. None of this was her fault, not really, and he wanted to relieve the guilt that he knew she was feeling.

"So… thing about Gabe- class clown," Lucifer introduced, causing Gabriel to clench his jaw as he turned to face them.

"And you're an ass clown," he fumed, Liv's gaze hard on the setting as it unfolded.

"Ha! You hear that? He's such a cut-up. I mean, I cant… Yeah, uh, I guess your time with Asmodeus didn't do you any favors, did it, bud?"

It took all of her self control not to lunge at that snarky asshole. Her anger was boiling her blood, this was the last thing Gabriel needed to be reminded of, and here he was jesting about it like it was all a joke.

"Yeah, well my time with you was worse. You recall-" Gabriel continued on, hoping to show Jack the true nature of his father.

"I recall, uh, nothing. I don't recall anything at all. Happy endings. All good, happy endings. Uh, meet Gabriel, your uncle. And that over there, that's Liv. She's uh… what exactly are you two? Is she...Auntie Liv? Is that what we're goin' with?"

Gabriel shot his brother a warning glare before turning away. There was only so much he could take. He began to walk off, needing a second to clear his head yet again and when he heard footsteps behind him he was furious to find they didn't belong to Liv.

She watched as Gabriel stalked off, Jack and Lucifer in tow, and she debated following behind or catching up with him once his brother had slunk off to his next ruse. When Gabriel's voice began to raise she shot to her feet, ready to run to him, but waiting for the right moment. She wanted him to say his piece, to get the words out she knew he needed to say, or scream. Lucifer deserved the rage and Gabriel deserved his freedom. Her breaking point was met when Gabriel began to walk away again, his head shaking.

"Leave him alone," she spat as she passed, walking briskly to try and catch up with Gabriel a good few feet in front of her.

"Aw Gabe, that's cute! Need your girlfriend to fight your battles for you? See, not much has changed," Lucifer jeered, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.

Maybe her brain wasn't working right, maybe it was the exhaustion or the hunger, but something in her made her turn back around, approach the devil, and punch him square in the jaw. Jack looked on, shocked, and Liv kept her gaze hard and unwavering as Lucifer recovered from her unexpected aggression.

"Fuck you," she hissed, her teeth clenched, fist ready to throw another one right into his nose.

"Ah, no thanks. I'm not a fan of sloppy seconds," Lucifer taunted, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

She laughed through her nose, nodding as she tried to suppress the ire bubbling in her chest. Gabriel watched on from a distance, a sense of pride ticking his mouth into a smile as he watched her fist colliding with his brother's face. He wasn't overly concerned, at least for the moment, with Jack around he wouldn't do anything detrimental. He was trying to be the goody-two-shoes he's never been. Thankfully, he seemed to be failing. Jack's face was skeptical as he listened to his father. Maybe Liv was right, there was a reason to have faith in this kid.

"He's not worth it!" Gabriel called, hoping to reel her back in and over to him; he wanted to kiss her.

Of course he was worth it. Okay, maybe _he_ wasn't worth it, but punching him in the face was worth it. Stabbing him with the angel blade she wished she had would have been worth it. The look on Jack's face was worth it as he saw through his father's bullshit act. The thought of him snapping her out of existence didn't even cross her mind as she stood in front of him. He was the devil, the biggest baddie there was, and she stood before him without fear. It took a lot of willpower to turn away and meet Gabriel down the path, but she did, her concern for him outweighing her own selfish wants to pummel Lucifer's face into the ground.

As soon as she was within arm's reach, Gabriel looped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, kissing her hard, free hand winding into her hair as he kissed his praises. Her muffled cry of surprise was music to his ears as her arms lazily wrapped around his neck. She melted into him, surrendering her anger for pure adoration for the man in her arms.

"I didn't think I could love you anymore, honestly," he panted, "but watching you punch that arrogant S.O.B right in his jaw, dad as my witness, I'd write a hymn commemorating your triumphs."

"You're an idiot" she jested, ruffling the hair on his head, happy to see him in higher spirits, even if it was only for a moment, "Come on, let's find everyone else. Get the plan, go home, right?"

"Yeah."

Slinging his arm around her shoulders, they walked into the main center of the large encampment, their hearts sinking as they took in the living arrangements of these poor people. Gabriel no longer felt angry being here to help them, they clearly needed it. If it took a few hours out of their lives to get these people somewhere safe, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

They spotted the Winchester clan a few yards away, and the person with them caused Liv to tilt her head in confusion. There was no way…

"Liv?" the gruff, old man called out as they locked eyes, his eyes widening as if he'd seen a ghost, "I can't…"

"Bobby?" she whispered, loud enough for only Gabriel to hear, the angel passing a confused look between the two.

Bobby immediately ran from his spot, pulling her into a massive bear hug, her shock pulling a gasp from her lips. Gabriel debated his next move, should he wrestle her free? Let this play out? She didn't seem in distress…

"And you, too," Bobby turned and cried, pulling the angel into his arms.

"Uh… what?" Gabriel asked, holding his arms awkwardly to his sides.

Clearly, they were all missing something.

A/N Thank you everyone for your reviews! They mean so much! Have faith in me, you won't leave here after Chapter 21 angry ;-) promise.


	19. Chapter 19

Gabriel stood in stunned silence, Bobby Singer's arms still locked tightly around him. His eyes shot over to Liv, who was staring at him with just as much shock as he was her, her mouth slightly parted and eyebrows furrowed. Whatever was happening clearly made no sense to her either. He knew she'd known Bobby Singer in their own universe, she'd always been fond of him, but how _this_ Bobby knew them was a mystery, but they obviously had a history. Seemingly, a sad one.

Fingers gently laced with his as the older man's arms finally released him, her grip comforting as he quelled the anxiety pounding in his chest. He could feel her own unease as she pulled herself in tightly beside him, her shoulder bumping against his arm, and he needed her closer. Pulling his hand from hers, he wrapped it around her upper body, nestling her into his side.

"It's damn good to see you," Bobby spluttered, his voice cracking as he stared at Liv.

This wasn't her Bobby, and she wasn't his… whatever he thought she was, but she'd have been lying if she tried to say she didn't want this to be real. Her head was swimming in emotions, she couldn't land on a thought or word. All she knew was Bobby was standing in front of her— _Bobby_ —and Gabriel was beside her; if her dad showed up she would have sworn this was heaven.

"I don't… I don't understand…" she stuttered, her tongue thick and heavy.

"Yeah… what she said," Gabriel added on.

"Yeah… guess you wouldn't," the old man sighed in response, reality crashing down around him, "Funny though, you two, still...even in other universes…"

"Care to elaborate?" Gabriel coaxed, keeping his voice firm.

What did he mean, still even in other universes? Gabriel hated this place, everything was wrong, and off, and unsettling, now added in were doppelgängers of dead people. Dead people that happened to mean a lot to the woman curled into his ribs.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private," Bobby suggested, and Gabriel shook his head no, "Okay… Well, I don't know where to start."

Nowhere private, nowhere hidden, it was here and now, "I tend to like beginnings," Gabriel demanded, his need for answers growing.

"I guess we had our own versions of you two over here," Bobby began, his tone melancholy.

"Had?" Liv pressed quietly.

"Yeah… when Michael found out his brother was shackin' up with a human… things didn't bode well."

For a moment, the world stopped spinning, and if he'd had the juice he thought possibly it literally would have. This was another universe, another timeline, another one of dad's failed plots, and somehow they were still together. Here in this world, he'd loved her, just as he did in their own, and she loved him. He didn't know whether to scream or cry or panic… So many questions flitted through his mind but one stuck out more than all the others.

"So we're dead," Gabriel stated, Liv gasping as Bobby's face fell, he didn't need to say another word for her to know it was true.

"We… we tried to get you guys out, as real a life as one can have here," Bobby retold, guilt weighing on his words, "A little place in Indiana, we warded it with everything we could but… they found you. I drove out to bring you guys some supplies and… and it was a damn massacre."

"Thought you didn't like my kind over here? Why was I even around?"

"You were always the exception. After all, you did rebel against heaven and it's armies, joined forces with us…"

"Why?"

"Her."

The answer didn't surprise him. He'd do the same thing now, hell he basically had. Liv was trembling, this wasn't settling well. For him it was almost comforting, however. To know that even alternate versions of himself had chosen her over all else just validated so many doubts he'd been carrying. Maybe this was as destined as he always thought it was, how could it not be? Had Dad written her into his life somewhere down the line? Like, _Gabriel_ , _you're_ _going_ _to_ _fall_ _in_ _love_ _with_ _this_ _human_ _and_ _she's_ _going_ _to_ _absolutely_ _consume_ _you_. It seemed like a Dad thing to do.

"You know her, obviously very well," Gabriel continued in his interrogation, "How?"

"I loved her like she was my own," Bobby reminisced, his eyes falling away in grief.

Liv wrapped her arms around Gabriel's middle at the confession, and he tightened his around her in response. This was all a lot to take in. She'd had some alternate persona here, died, Gabriel died, and now Bobby was here saying they had some parental-like bond, which exceeded the relationship they'd had in her own life. Sure, she'd had a real soft spot for the seasoned hunter, he'd spent many years cleaning up after her and there was no denying they'd been very close but to say he'd loved her like his own? No. Somehow here, she'd filled the void left by the Winchesters in Bobby's life, they'd obviously just failed miserably at saving the world.

"When did I come in?" Gabriel went on, he needed every facet of this version of them he could, he needed to piece it all together.

"Oh, way back before the Apocalypse. Maybe, two, three years? Thought you were the Trickster for the longest time. Then she comes home one day sayin' she's in love with your candy-eating ass and that you're actually an archangel," Bobby answered, a fond smile playing at his lips, "I trusted her. Took every ounce of self control I had not to lock her as far away from you as I could get her, but she was dead set on you bein' one of the good guys. Then, when you finally came around, and I saw the way you looked at her, like she hung the freakin' moon herself, I knew she was right. No one can fake that look, not even you."

So the timeline seemed to be the same. This _was_ written somewhere. It had to be. It was just a shame the bastard had run off, he'd never get an answer now. The question weighed heavily, was this supposed to happen all along? In the grand schemes of the universes, were they always going to end up here?

"I need to know where," Gabriel demanded.

He needed to go there, he needed to see it. He needed to _know_.

"Why!?" Liv spat, pulling herself away from him, "What's it matter?"

"It just does," he stressed, reaching back out for her hand, she wouldn't understand.

"I can't…"

Ripping herself away from his attempt at reeling her back in, she stalked off. He knew he should follow after her, but he also knew at this point it would be futile. She needed sleep, and food, she'd gone too long without both and that wasn't helping the situation at all. He was also well aware that her thought process had ended at finding out they were dead. She'd want to hear no more, and he knew it was solely because _he_ was gone, not so much herself. He knew it was a recurring nightmare, one she'd lived with for far too long.

"She needs food, and sleep. Can you help?" Gabriel requested, his voice and expression exasperated.

"Oh yeah, there's a mess hall up around the corner and then just… find an empty tent, most everyone here has staked their claim on what's theirs but there should be a spare floating around," Bobby replied, and Gabriel responded with a curt nod, "Oh and Gabriel… Battle Ground, Indiana."

He laughed to himself, how fitting. Before heading out to begin his search for his fuming hothead, he located both the food and the tent, grabbing small things he'd know she'd eat and setting it in the old, canvas hut. It was tiny, barely enough to fit them both, but it'd do to get her a few hours. He didn't like that everything was off here. How was he ever going to find her if he couldn't even sense where she was? Water, she'd be near some kind of running water, she gravitated to it but the last place he'd seen any was ten minutes outside of camp. If she'd left this warded safe zone she was in for a world of trouble, he'd see to it himself.

Slowly, he wandered around, hoping to catch sight of her in his familiar jacket sitting off to the side somewhere, or even Cas. If she was going to anyone, it'd be him. As his feet carried him over the paths of Singer Salvage, he wondered where they fit here. Did one of these little ramshackle huts belong to them at one point? Had he been a main supplier of necessities, did he risk using his powers to make them things they needed, or maybe even just lighten the mood every so often? Was he just as terrified as everyone else was? There were so many questions and no answers.

"Gabe?" Liv's soft voice called out from behind him, and he breathed out in relief.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he apologized as he turned, immediately walking towards her to wrap her back into his arms.

"I'm sorry…"

Her head was nuzzled back into the crook of his neck as her arms linked under his, both hands coming up to grip his shoulders. The sun was beginning to set and the thought of her being out there alone in the dark had begun to press in Gabriel's thoughts, and he held her tight. He'd tried not to think about this world's version of her dying, surely it happened in front of him, he could see Michael drawing it out, making him watch. That was probably the most satisfying part of the entire thing. He also feared the angels knowing her face. Did it make her a target here now?

"I got you some food," he whispered into her hair, "and found a place to sleep for a minute. Come on."

"No, I'm okay," she assured, and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

"Humor me then, sit and eat, talk to me."

There was no way she could deny him, not when he put it that way. He always knew how to get right down to the core of her. It had only been a few days and part of her still couldn't believe he was here again. All those years had passed, yet it seemed like none had at all, every second without him long forgotten. Their rhythm had come back like it was second nature, the bickering and all. He led them back to their spot for the evening, pulling out the plates of… whatever this was he'd collected for them and two ratty blankets. Laying one down for them to sit on, he reserved the other to wrap around their shoulders as soon as they'd settled. Liv nestled into both the blanket and the man at her side, soaking in every ounce of warmth he was radiating.

Even though she'd tried to convince herself (and him) otherwise, she was starving and exhausted. The small bits of food Gabriel had scrounged up tasted like the finest fares the world had to offer as she scarfed them down.

"And you tried to tell me you were fine," he scoffed, tossing a handful of raisins into his mouth.

"Why's it all matter, Gabe?" she asked, pushing the remaining beans on her plate around as she kept her gaze away from his, "Why do you care about what happened to… them here?"

"Them being… us?"

"They're not us. We're right here. We're fine."

"So you did find Cas."

"What?"

"That statement has Castiel written all over it. You… you, my little over thinker, would be dwelling on the thought of me dead in a ditch somewhere. Not to toot my own horn or anything…"

The fond little smile that twitched at her lips broke free. He was right. Her head had been inundated with images of those fierce, golden eyes staring up into the sky, dead and cold as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, his massive wings burning on either side of him. She couldn't shake it, but unlike him, she wanted as few details of the ordeal as she could possibly get. She'd found Cas, who'd given her his usual optimistic pep talk. He'd assured her their fates wouldn't be the same, they'd be back home tomorrow, in a safer world. In their world.

"Yeah…" she admitted, peering up at him through her lashes.

"Yeah. See? You forget that I know you sometimes," he teased, flicking a raisin at her cheek.

"But you didn't answer my question."

He was well aware, he'd actually hoped to avoid it.

"I don't know," he lied, "interesting we still end up banging in a whole other universe, isn't it?"

She wasn't fooled by him just as well as he wasn't fooled by her, "You forget I know you, too," she chastised, kicking the bottom of his boot lightly.

"I just don't like not knowing things. They may not be us, but… clearly some paths in this world are the same. If something happened here, that I can prevent on our end, I wanna know."

"Well… there's no Apocalypse. So I feel we're already one step ahead. No Michael."

Turning and throwing a leg over him, she sat in his lap facing him, wrapping one arm around his neck as the other softly stroked against his growing stubble. She could see the worry in his eyes and face, he wasn't going to let this rest. Not unless she could convince him. Even though she had her own doubts about this new stance she was trying to uphold, she wanted to give him reassurance anyway that she could.

"We're gonna go home tomorrow, and everything is gonna be fine," she promised, "All this shit will be behind us, forever. Then we get to do whatever we want 'til you get sick of me."

"I'll never get sick of you," he cooed, pressing his forehead into hers, "If I made it through your twenties I think I can make it through anything."

"Hey, I thought I was pretty level headed-"

"Oh you thought wrong."

"Why'd you stick around then?"

"'Cause you're cute, obviously."

"That all it takes?"

"I'm a simple man."

Of course, they both knew that was far from the truth, and the smiles on their faces reflected it. His thumb grazed across her cheek bone, his eyes soft and reverent, a hint of sadness glinting in them, it'd been too long without her. With a small tick of his head, he gestured for them to crawl into their accommodations for the evening, his face falling at the general lack of any comfortable surface. She watched with a gentle gaze as he grabbed things from around the tent, random blankets and lumpy pillows, in an attempt to form a makeshift bed. She'd never understood where, out of all the angels, Gabriel was the only one who was just hardwired with the ability to love. Sure, Castiel had learned it, adapted, he was more human than angel now and had been for years now, but Gabriel, he left heaven from a broken heart. Watching his family tear each other apart had ruined him, he had truly loved them with far more than any other celestial being was capable, and he loved the humans, too. Mostly, however, she thought that he loved her. Hoped was maybe a more accurate feeling, because just as it had in the beginning, it still felt too good to be true now.

"Okay, I think that's as good as it's gonna get," he sighed, sitting back on his heels with his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed.

"I've slept on worse," she assured softly, feeling her heart swelling in her chest. As much as this world was a nightmare, she couldn't shake the feeling this was all just a dream.

He flopped down first, opening his arm out to the side, welcoming her into his embrace. She wasn't sure why he was so concerned about a comfortable place to sleep, he should have known she'd just be using him. Her head laid softly on his chest, her fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt she'd grown very fond of. She'd always appreciated when he wore these tighter, thin shirts, but no matter how many times she'd told him in the past, he never thought he looked good in them. Maybe he was finally seeing the error in his ways. Soon, her lips began to explore the exposed skin of his chest and neck, he was too hard to resist.

"It's a bit cold," he chuckled, knowing exactly what she was after.

"You'll keep me warm," she purred, her fingers now gliding up the hem of his shirt to feather along his stomach.

"One leg, that's it," he agreed, rolling her over onto her back.

With an excited grin she pulled one leg free of her jeans, pushing them as far to the side as she could to allow him easy access. His fingers went to work immediately through the last remaining thin cotton barrier and she arched in response, mewls falling from her lips. Soon, it wasn't enough, and she grabbed his hand and guided it through the thin elastic waistband, needing his skin on her own. His ability to make her feel things no one else could had always amazed her. Whether it was sex, or happiness, or sadness, everything with him was magnified. She still hadn't been able to decipher whether or not that was a good thing, either.

"You don't get cold, though," she pointed out, haphazardly pulling the bottom of his shirt up his torso.

"No, I don't," he agreed, pulling his shirt off then lifting her slightly to tuck it behind her head like a pillow, and she smiled at the sight before her.

"Mhmm, so much better. Warm me up, golden boy."

As he pressed his lips to hers, he couldn't help the satisfied little laugh that puffed out right as they touched. Leave it to her to make him forget his agony and misery even for a moment. Knowing the cool air was probably biting at that one exposed leg, he began running his hand up and down her thigh, hoping to pass some of his heat onto her. He thought for a moment it was working until an ice cold foot snuck right up against his bare stomach, causing him to jump and yelp in shock, while she threw her head back in uncontrolled giggles. This was very reminiscent to earlier times, and he couldn't help but smile as he held that freezing appendage against himself to soothe the chill, his mouth finding hers yet again. With his free hand, he swatted around beside them until he found a spare blanket and then threw the tattered wool over the top of them, his warmth now lingering beneath it and getting her to a comfortable temperature quickly.

"Better?" he cooed, dragging his lips down onto her throat.

"Almost," she sighed, pushing her hips up into his.

"Eager beaver."

Her breathy laugh was soon replaced with a moaning sigh as he slowly slid inside of her, his eyes snapping shut as he took in the sensation. His movements were short and shallow, not wanting to pull himself away both out of want and the worry of the cold getting to her. Their mouths moved together, tongues gently maneuvering with one another in perfect unison. She held him close around his neck as he rocked into her. It was the perfect slow, tantalizing pace, just enough. She could care less about release, she just needed him close, as close as he could get. Feeling tears pricking at her eyes, she pinched them shut as she wound a hand into his hair, the complete satisfaction in being back with who she knew she belonged with taking over.

"I love you," she whispered against his open mouth as they stopped for air, his breath puffing out hot against her lips.

"Ditto, sweetheart," he breathed, "more than anything."

That was all that mattered. She knew he was hurting and even if this only helped for a few minutes, it was better than nothing. She wanted to give him everything, to make sure he knew that even if he didn't deem himself worthy of it, she loved him. She needed him. She'd always need him. He kept her grounded and content. When the world was falling apart he put it back together. He was the eye of the storm, a moment of peace in the chaos. His skin was hot and smooth beneath her fingers and she took a moment to memorize the feeling of it. The last nine years had been eye opening to just how much she'd taken advantage of every second spent with him. No time would ever be long enough. Not a year, not twenty, she'd always feel like she'd missed some part of the wonder of him.

Her release was slow and completely encompassing, every sense was clouded, claimed wholly by him. His mouth covered hers, swallowing down the guttural groans she had no control over as her nails raked red trails down the pale skin of his back. As she went limp beneath him, a blissed smile pushing up into her eyes, he gazed down and drunk in the sight, one small push of her hips against his toppling him over the edge.

"Promise me you'll always need me like this," he begged as he collapsed down on top of her, his head falling beside hers.

"Like what?" she asked, confused by his question.

"Like I mean something."

Quickly after the words were spoken, he pushed himself up, sitting straight and rigid beside her. Taking a moment to shove her free leg back into her pants, she watched as his eyes traveled to where she knew she could never go, his mind wandering off to the deep, dark corners she wished she could light and end his pain. Still at just as much of a loss as she was weeks ago, she sat up and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek into his back and silently she held him. It had worked that night, and she prayed it would again today.

"I promise," she assured, unaware of even how much time had passed, and she meant it, she needed him.

"You need to sleep," he instructed softly, turning slightly to wrap her in his arms before laying them both back.

Relieved, she curled into his side, her head nestled into the thin patch of hair in the middle of his chest as he ran the backs of his fingers up and down her back soothingly. Exhaustion was taking over faster than she wanted and before she knew it, she felt herself dozing off.

"Gabe!" he heard a familiar, and unwelcome, gruff voice calling off in the distance, his eyes snapping shut as he suppressed a groan.

Liv had been asleep for a few hours now and Gabriel had no intention of moving himself or her. This was comfortable, and she'd freeze without him, what could that needy buffoon possibly want at this hour?

"Gabe?" Dean called again, this time poking his head into the tent, earning himself a death glare from the angel taking up residence in it, "Hey… we uh, we need you."

"Too bad, I'm busy," Gabe whisper-yelled in response, his eyes ticking down to the sleeping woman on top of him.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't need to," Dean replied, his voice actually filled with what sounded like sincere regret, "I know this is where you'd rather be, and I'm sorry…"

"Okay, fine. Don't strain yourself faking sympathy, I'm coming."

Carefully, Gabriel pulled himself from Liv's sleeping hold, the loss of her weight on him setting his nerves back into overdrive. She didn't wake, she barely moved when he slid her off of him, a testament to just how exhausted she was. He knew it was around midnight, and he hoped that by some miracle she stayed asleep until the sun came up. Tucking the blanket up and around her before he left, he snatched his shirt before she could roll over on top of it again, exiting the tent and meeting a very wary-looking Dean standing off to the side. When he approached, the angel's unclothed top half took him by surprise.

"Did you guys… that tent is uh… small," Dean stammered, looking back and forth between Gabriel throwing his Henley back on and the tiny abode he'd just emerged from.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Gabriel replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well you're no gentleman."

"What do you need, Dean? Besides my sex life to live vicariously through."

"We're going on a rescue mission, we need you to keep watch."

"Keep watch? Of what? Here? Dean, they've gotten by for years without a watch-"

"On Lucifer."

Gabriel rolled his eyes with a sigh, that was even worse. Pulling him away from a few hours of peace to babysit his intolerable brother was just about the worst task Dean could have requested from him. Dean knew it, too, Gabriel could see the regret etched into his face, the pity. He nodded his response, knowing damn well there was no point in arguing, the fact that they were so close to the end motivating him to just keep his mouth shut and press forward.

Dean led him to the abandoned car lot that he'd argued with his brother in earlier that day, thankfully it wasn't far from where Liv was asleep in their tent. He'd be able to hear her if anything went awry. He already missed her, selfishly wishing it was her joining him in the junkyard versus the figure he saw already leaning up against an old truck. This was torture.

With a curt nod, Dean left the two brothers alone, neither turning to even acknowledge the other. Gabriel took a seat on a stack of old tires, leaving Lucifer just within eye and ear shot in case he attempted anything… characteristic. Being alone with his thoughts was dangerous, again they floated off to all the endless possibilities that ended their lives here. He didn't care what she, or Castiel, said, what happened here mattered. He knew it did. He could feel it. Finding a way to get out to Battle Ground was going to be impossible, especially now. He wasn't even sure he had enough in the tank to get him there and back, but something inside him was telling him he _needed_ to go there, to see what had happened with his own eyes.

Lucifer hadn't moved, whatever he was thinking about had him very much trapped into his own head, and Gabriel hoped whatever it was was bringing him great turmoil. Jack was seemingly still on the fence about his dear old dad, and he knew that Lucifer hadn't been anticipating having to put this much effort in. He'd expected to win that kid over in seconds, but maybe Liv had been right in her judgement to trust the kid.

"Gabe?" her soft, sweet, still heavy with sleep voice called from beside him and he felt a pang of regret, that had not been long enough.

He didn't respond, his head still hung low, chin tucked to his chest. She hated seeing him like this. Sure, before in the earlier years she'd always known he carried a lot of self-loathing and self-worth issues, but it was never like this. Back then he seemed at least slightly less burdened, and she didn't know what it was about now that had him feeling so despondent. Nothing had changed, except his lack of grace, but nothing she was doing seemed to get the fact that his power was not proportionate to his purpose.

Slowly, she padded her way over to him, her boots crunching on the gravel piquing Lucifer's attention, but he didn't turn to face them. Gently, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, one around his neck, the other his waist, and she laid her chin across his shoulder, resting her head against his. He was warm, as always, and when one hand rested against the arm around his middle, she felt a modicum of relief.

"What can I do?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"This," Gabriel responded quietly, leaning back ever so slightly into her embrace.

Liv pressed her lips lightly to his cheekbone and she felt his face lift into a small smile. This was where he belonged.

"You should be asleep, you're exhausted," he scolded, pressing his head even further back into her.

"I woke up and you were gone, got worried," she mumbled, gripping her arms around him tighter.

"I'm never far."

The couple sat in silence. It wasn't awkward or heavy, it was peaceful. He could feel her soft exhales against his cheek, and her heart tapping against his back, the cadence lulling him into an almost hypnotized trance as he poured every ounce of his concentration into her. Pushing away the thoughts of a world without her, he closed his eyes, wanting every sense not consumed by her shut down.

"I love you," she whispered into his ear, or maybe he was imagining it, at this point he wasn't sure but the phrase brought great comfort nonetheless.

"This is so stupid," Lucifer whined, breaking both of the other occupants of the junkyard from their quiet bubble.

"Dean said to stay behind. Any angels show up, we gotta defend this place," Gabriel lied, earning a sigh from his brother, "It is really killing you you're not out there impressing your kid, huh? Lucifer, do you really see a version here where he sticks by you?"

"I think the kid is pretty blown away by his old man, so… yeah, I do."

"He's a kid. He likes shiny objects and magic tricks. But he's not like you. I can see it in his eyes. His mother's bloodline, the Winchester's influence."

"I can be an influence."

"Ugh, he's not gonna want that. He'll see who… what you are."

"I've changed."

Gabriel scoffed, pulling himself from Liv's grip and approaching his brother. That was the most absurd statement he'd heard yet, and he didn't think the last ones were going to be easy to beat. Liv took up Gabriel's post on the tires, pulling her blade from inside her jacket, turning just far enough away that she could see both the camp and the two archangels in her peripheral vision. She loved seeing Gabriel stand up to his brother, but even more so that Gabriel had gained some faith in the Nephilim boy. She'd known deep down that Jack was good, and Gabriel now seeing it too had her lips turning into a small grin. She imagined Gabriel influencing Jack, being there to guide him as he explored his powers, seeing as he was the only one who would truly understand what the kid was capable of. She was also excited to be seeing more of him, she liked him with his wide-eyed innocence and pure, fresh-faced outlook on life. He'd be refreshing to have around, she thought.

The two angels arguing wasn't quite discernible from where she sat, but whatever Gabriel was saying seemed to be getting to Lucifer. Then they started shouting.

"Yeah? Pop locked me up, okay?!" Lucifer seethed.

"Don't you get it?" Gabriel retorted, "Humans were innocent and beautiful. But you… you couldn't stand that the old man loved them more than he loved you. So you tempted them and corrupted them, just to prove how flawed they were."

"You better be careful, man."

"Dad saw that your evil was like the first few cells of cancer… that it would spread like the disease unless he cut it out. That is why he locked you up, to stop the cancer. But it was too late then, and guess what, it's too late for you now."

"She makes you weak! I remember when you used to command armies and incite fear and respect! Now, now look at you. Nothing more than a pet… a joke!"

"Yeah, maybe. Still better than whatever you are, though."

Before he allowed his anger to get the best of him, Gabriel walked away, leaving his brother alone again against that rusted old truck. He stopped in front of Liv, her eyes sad as she peered up at him. His face was fallen, with what appeared to be tears brimming in his lower eye; she'd do anything to take this pain from him.

"Oh, baby," she soothed, reaching and grabbing both of his hands in her own, "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Gabriel sighed, relishing in the softness of her hands, "You didn't do anything."

"I know you're hurting."

As much as he wanted to lie, assure her he was fine, that he was just tired, or angry or irritated, that tiny piece of him that wanted to be weak won out. His eyes pinched shut as he squeezed her hands, one tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. The past few days had been too much. Leaving her, losing Sam (thankfully only temporarily), Lucifer, Liv's arrival to the one place he didn't want her to be, then finding out that in this world they were dead… it had been too much for his already damaged psyche to process. Flashes of hell still broke through from their barriers every so often, as did happier memories with two of his brothers that had destroyed entire worlds. He didn't want any of it.

"Come here," she beckoned, reaching her hand up to press against the back of his head, pushing his face down to hers.

Immediately, he dropped to his knees between her thighs, returning her kiss greedily. He hugged himself around her waist, pulling his body as close to hers as he could get, soaking in every inch of her. In a few short hours this would all be over, but no matter how many times he repeated that in his head it never seemed to make a difference.

"I know I don't… compare," Liv began, keeping her forehead pressed firmly to his, "but I do love you."

Didn't compare? No, she didn't compare, and he wouldn't want her to. She was on a level of her own. She was far beyond the betrayals, the heartache, and the pure, remorseless pain brought about by his family.

"Hey," he cut off, "Hey, look at me. You are enough for me. You will always be enough for me. Understand?"

Liv responded with a nod, but he knew she didn't feel it. Not yet. Gabriel stood, wrapping his arms around her neck as she pressed her face to his chest. To even think for one second that somehow she deemed herself unworthy of him was infuriating. It had always, _always_ been the other way around, and it always would be.

Moments later, Gabriel saw the return of the Winchesters, marking the end of his surveillance. He was making that call, he'd done his due duty and now it was time to get back to what he'd started. Without a word, he picked Liv up bridal style, her arms instinctually wrapping around his neck as she relaxed into his hold. They didn't even make it back to the tent before she was already asleep again. As Gabriel carefully situated them back beneath the old, tattered blankets, ensuring her body was tucked tightly against his, he felt weak, just as his brother had accused him of being, and he loved it. If this was weakness, than it was a far greater thing to feel than strength, and he knew it was simply just time to embrace that.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N There's one more after this... get your tissues out... then promise you'll stick it out til the end...

The night had passed, Liv sleeping soundly through until morning without so much as a twitch, leaving Gabriel alone in the dark with these strange thoughts and visions playing in his head. They weren't things he'd ever thought before, it didn't even feel like they were coming from his own psyche, every instinct telling him to run.

When she woke, he eased her slowly back into the world, dragging his fingertips along her back, pressing light, feathering kisses to her head as he enjoyed a morning feeling her rouse in his embrace. Just a few more hours and this would be his life for the foreseeable future. It was almost hard to believe that tomorrow morning they very well could be waking up in some cabana on an island, the sea breeze wafting in through an open window, tangled in each other with nothing but cool, linen sheets separating them. He craved it like he'd never needed anything more, her legs wrapped with his, hair splayed across his chest as her breath hit his skin, warm and rhythmic.

"We're going home today," Liv mumbled, scooting herself up just enough to press a sweet kiss to the underside of his jaw, "finally."

"Mhmm," he hummed, tilting his head to peer down affectionately at her.

"I'm ready. I'm done."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"I mean it. I'm done. All yours, forever."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Cause you'll always be enough for me, too."

His final words to her last night were still swimming in her head and the smile that sparkled into his eyes as she spoke the words solidified her answer. She had to be done, for him. He'd spent years obeying her every whim, doing whatever it was she wanted as she dragged him around the country when all he'd wanted was a quiet, white picket life. It may have taken over a decade, but she knew life wasn't about her anymore. It was about _them_. He'd given everything for her, it was time for her to give something up, too. Her lips found his, pressing lightly against them and his eyes fluttered closed in response. As they built a soft and steady pace, his thumb feathered against her cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She rolled over on top of him, knees on either side, sitting up straight to stare down at him and his hands ran up and down her thighs as his eyes swept over her form, mouth slightly agape as he enjoyed the view.

"First thing we're doing, well, I'm doing, is you, just… like… this…" she purred, grazing her fingers down his torso, eliciting a whimper from the man beneath her.

"You won't hear one lick of objection from me, sweetheart," he panted, hands coming to grip both of her hips, "In fact, if you wanted to just do that now…"

As he raised his eyebrows at his own suggestion, she laughed, "Oh no, you're gonna be done right."

"Mmm, I always love when you take charge. Hits me right in the sweet spot"

"Oh I know."

"Gabriel! Liv!" a gravelly, yet soft voice began calling from outside, and they knew their time was done.

"Yeah! Give us a second!" Gabriel yelled back to his brother, staring up at Liv again with a sad expression.

"Soon," she cooed, hovering down over him and kissing him one last time before crawling off of him.

As they exited the tent, she spotted Castiel waiting at the edge of the trail. Leave it to him to give them as much privacy as he could while still maintaining his task. She smiled to herself as Gabriel's hand slid onto her lower back, her eyes shooting up to catch sight of his profile against the early morning light. It was hard to imagine life without him in it, despite having somehow survived almost a decade.

"Cas! What?" Gabriel called as the pair advanced towards him, "Are we leaving yet?"

"Uh, not yet. Dean still has some repairs to make to the bus," Castiel responded, eyes darting around nervously, "We uh… we can't find Maggie, however. We were hoping you two would go out and sweep the area one last time while I check around here."

Gabriel groaned, that girl was a nuisance, but at least it would give them something to do while they waited. Liv nodded, grabbing Gabriel by the arm and tugging him in the direction of the entrance, looping her arm with his when he finally gave in.

"Come on, it'll be a nice walk either way," she urged, leaning her head against his arm.

"Nothing about this place is nice," Gabriel scoffed, "it's disgusting."

"Well, then we can make it nice."

"You're in a surprisingly good mood this morning."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

One side of his lips ticked up into a smirk, she was right, he supposed. There was much more good on the horizon than bad, get through another five hours here, and then it was a lifetime of freedom. They walked on in silence, her hold on him strong in every way. She was the tether holding him to reality, the strings holding him together and that quiet voice in the night that wrangled the monsters in his head. She was everything.

"You mean it?" Gabriel asked, peering down at her softly, "You're done?"

"I mean it," she assured, stopping to lift herself onto the tips of her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, "Promise."

"Okay."

That quiet, broken response shot straight to her heart, it was almost pleading. As if with that one word he was begging her to be truthful, to stand by her words. She intended to, she'd lost him once, twice almost, she wasn't about to do it again.

"Lemme just go check over here and then we'll call it," he instructed, pressing a kiss to her temple before walking off to the open clearing to the left of them.

He'd made it about fifteen feet before the cracking of dead branches caught his attention, his head whipping back around behind him to the source. Liv had clearly heard it too as her own head was turned.

"Maggie?" Liv called out, her instincts kicking in as she took off in a jog towards the sound.

"Liv! Liv, don't!" Gabriel yelled after her, panic setting in, "Liv!"

She didn't stop. With a groan he took off after her, sometimes he swore the girl had a death wish. Jogging around behind her, he was surprised by the silence. Obviously it wasn't Maggie, but the lack of Liv's own footsteps sent his heart thudding a little harder than normal. The air was cold as it whipped across his face, his hair blowing into his eyes as he rounded the corner and when he did, he froze.

Standing six feet away was Liv, eyes filled with terror, mouth hung open wide as she gasped for air, her eyes locked on her attacker. As if the world was moving in slow motion, Gabriel watched as Liv's own silver blade was shoved straight through her center at the hands of one of Michael's soldiers. Every piece of him shattered as her agonizing wail pierced through the decaying trees, his eyes widening as he stood helplessly witness.

"NO!" Gabriel screamed, snapping his fingers as he took off into a sprint.

The lone scout was effectively dissolved to smoke, draining Gabriel of everything he had left. He groaned at the pain from his rapid loss of his power, the feeling of the elements heightening as his feet stumbled forward. He dropped to his knees in front of her, catching her limp body as she collapsed forward, her blood-soaked hands pressed tightly to her seeping wound. Tears were falling from the outer corners of her eyes, as her face twisted and contorted and he gripped her tightly.

"You're okay, I got ya, you're all right," he cooed, her whimpers slowly breaking him down, the ragged whoosh of her breaths terrifying him, "you're gonna be okay, I promise."

Her head shook against his shoulder, she knew there was no fixing this. She wasn't making it home. Her tears fought to become sobs, and she tried her hardest to subdue them, not wanting to waste what little bit she had left on that. Fingers locked into the thin fabric of his shirt, holding herself to him. If she was dying, she was dying right here—with him.

"I'm sorry," she choked, blood slowly lolling from the corner of her lips as he laid her in his lap, "I'm sorry."

"Ssshhh," he comforted, "you have nothing to be sorry for. Eyes on me, sweetheart, eyes on me. I'm gonna fix this."

Blood erupted from her mouth as she coughed and he turned her head to the side to let it drain past her lips. Hyperventilating now, he knew he didn't have what it would take to heal her; he didn't have anything. He couldn't even _fly_. His terror set in. A train of no's fell from his lips as her fate was settled. She was going to die.

"We need to get you to Cas, come on," he reasoned. Cas could fix her, he had before.

When he lifted her from the ground, they'd made it no more than an inch before she screamed in utter distress, her fingers digging in as she shook her head. This wasn't what she wanted, she was under no illusions, she wasn't dying being carried back to camp. Her heart was failing, he could hear it, the slow thud growing weaker and weaker by the second. He slumped back to the ground.

"You stay awake, okay?" he pleaded, watching the sparkle slowly recede from her eyes, "I'm gonna get you outta here."

Trying with all her might, she lifted her hand towards his face and when he saw the struggle in her face, he grabbed it gently in his own, holding her freezing palm against his cheek. Softly, he turned, pressing his lips against her palm, tears pouring down his face as her fate was decided.

"I love you," she sputtered, needing him to hear it one last time, "I love you so much."

"I know sweetheart, so you gotta stay awake. Come on, don't leave me…. Let's go find Cas," he begged, his words barely discernible through his sobs, "I'm growing you a beard, right? As soon as we get home. I'm gonna marry you, remember? Eyes on me, please…"

When her eyes began began to flutter closed, dread settled into the pit of his stomach, reflexes taking over as he shook her gently. He wasn't ready, not yet.

"No please," he groveled, "I'll be better, I promise I'll be better. Just, stay with me…"

 _Stay_ _with_ _me_. His words worked through her, giving her heart another push, another mouthful of blood coming with it. Gabriel turned her head away again just as he had the first time.

"There you are," he sighed, brushing the hair from her face as he tilted her head back forward again, "don't close your eyes. Look at me, gorgeous."

"I don't wanna die," she confessed, those trapped wails breaking free, "I don't wanna die, Gabe."

It was time to be strong. She was dying, there was no denying that and she needed him. Mustering everything he had left, he smiled down at her, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand before clearing her own with his thumb.

"I know. It's okay. You're gonna be okay," he assured, continuing to run his thumb along her cheek.

"What's gonna happen to me?" she asked, her fear very apparent.

"You're gonna go to Heaven. And I'm gonna put a good word in, get you the best damn spot in the house. Right next to the garden, you're gonna love it."

"I don't wanna go…"

"I know you don't. I'm right here, you're not doing anything alone. But you stay as long as you can though, okay? Cause… cause I'm gonna miss you, you know. All your messes and your hair in the shower drain. And your terrible singing. I might even miss your cold feet on me in the middle of the damn night."

"You love my singing."

"I do."

It was too much, the brave façade he'd been so desperately trying to withhold finally broke. Sobs fell from his lips as he buried his face into her hair, that familiar coconut scent all but gone. Her skin was growing cold, her breathing more labored and he knew she couldn't hold on any longer, despite the fact that she was trying with every bit of life she had left.

"Gabe…" she rasped, needing to see his face one last time.

Slowly, he lifted his head, smiling through his pain, knowing this was it. The last sight her eyes would not be him in tears, she would not die filled with guilt.

"It's okay," he comforted, nodding his head, "It's time to go, sweetheart. I've got you. You're safe. Don't stay just for me, there's something a hell of a lot better waiting for you. I love you, you know… forever. Forever, baby."

Eyes rolling back, her breath wheezed in and out erratically, one last word choking out before her fingers fell limp against his cheek. _Forever_. He listened as her heart pushed out its final beat, eyes snapping shut as the world went quiet. The silence was deafening. He couldn't feel the wind as it blew around him, or the sun against his skin. He was numb. No sounds escaped his lips as his face contorted in grief. Bowing his head to hers, his shaking lips pressed one last time against hers, dead and cold. No breath hit his lips, no soft laugh followed his gesture, her lips didn't tick upwards into a smile.

She was gone.

He was alone.

He would always be… alone.

"It's okay, you're okay," he began to recite over and over as he rocked back and forth, her body still laid across his lap, "I'm still here. Not leaving you."

The ache was spreading from his chest to every limb, his body felt like it was shutting down. He prayed to wake up, for Asmodeus to pop out from the shadows and relieve him of his torment, but nobody came. Nothing changed. He became aware of the whimpers and sobs blubbering from his lips, the smell of blood so strong he could practically taste it, her blood.

"Please… can I wake up now?" he begged one last time, "I'll behave, wake me up… I won't say another word… I'll be good. Asmodeus?"

For a moment he swore he heard the echoing of footsteps on cold, hard concrete, and his eyes snapped up waiting to see that familiar white suit, but still, nothing changed. This was real. Finally, a scream erupted from the deepest, darkest part of him, his arms still clutching his heart in his arms, lifeless and cold.

"Have I not suffered _ENOUGH_?" he bellowed as he turned his eyes to the heavens, "Eons! I've suffered EONS! For you! Because of you! And you couldn't leave me the one fucking thing…"

A sob caught in his throat again, his eyes turning to look at her face, hoping his father would hear his cries and return her, but the only smile he saw was the one in his memories. Her eyes filled with a love he didn't deserve, one he'd never feel again. Gently, he grabbed her face between his hands, trying to push all of the grace he knew he didn't have into her, but he had nothing to give.

The walk back to camp felt like hours, her head lolling around on his chest as he carried her back to the safety of the warding. A place she never should have left. Her body was heavy in his arms, and he didn't know if it was from his lack of grace or will, but the weight was almost as comforting as it was horrific. When he reached the safe confines, he immediately fell to his knees, he'd succeeded. He was exhausted, every inch of him hurt as laid her flat on the ground, his head falling to her frozen chest. His sobs could be heard through the camp, bringing about an audience as they stood witness to the archangel falling apart before their eyes. It didn't take long for Sam and Castiel to hurry towards the disturbance.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, before Gabriel was within his sights.

"The archangel," a random onlooker replied, "Something's happened."

Cas and Sam took off into a sprint, both of them freezing at the sight of the huddled pair in the dirt.

"No…" Castiel cried, "Liv…"

"What?" Sam asked frantically, his eyes darting for anyone who may have an answer.

"She's dead."

Sam lurched forward, ready to run towards them, but a strong arm blocked him from advancing, Castiel's woeful eyes still staring in Gabriel's direction.

"You can't," Cas warned, "He's… he won't have control."

Warily, the angel began to approach his brother, Gabriel's head lifting slowly as he heard the crunch of gravel approaching. Castiel kept his face neutral, but inside he felt the twinge of terror. Gabriel was staring through his brow, eyes red and swollen, void of any of their familiar warmth and mischief. Her blood was splattered along almost every surface of him, his shirt practically soaked through. He looked like a man deranged.

"Bring her back," Gabriel implored, "please. Please, Cas. Bring her back."

"I can't Gabriel," Castiel replied sadly, "You know that."

The response sent another wave of desperate cries through Gabriel's lips, his head beginning to shake again as he refused to accept this reality. There was a way, there had to be a way…

"What's goin' on here?" a familiar and unwelcome voice snarked from behind Sam, "Oh shit, Gabe, what the hell happened?"

"Help me," Gabriel pleaded, "please. I'll do whatever you want. Bring her back, please."

With a shocked little snicker, Lucifer pointed at himself, as if asking why he should care, but then his eyes fell onto Jack who had just come into the area. The boy's eyes were sad as he looked upon the one member of his blood family he'd wanted in his life, so broken and despondent. Lucifer knew this was his chance to prove himself to his son, to win him over.

"We were brothers. We loved each other once," Gabriel reasoned, "I need you. Please Lucifer, you're my brother, and I need you."

"Okay…" Lucifer began, "But this means I get a lifetime of servitude from you. You do what I say when I ask, whether you like it or not, or I pull her plug. Deal?"

Relief washed through Gabriel as he nodded. Obeying any whim of Lucifer's was worth having her breathing again, having her here with him.

"Ah Gabe," Lucifer consoled as he knelt at her head, his voice sincere for the first time in thousands of years, "you really love this little thing, don't you?"

"Yes."

"All right. I'll fix her for you, but you remember when you look at her, who made it all possible. No more shit talking… you wanna be brothers? You get me in good graces with my son, you get your girlfriend back. Deal?"

Clenching his teeth, he nodded. He'd deal with the disaster of a potential Jack and Lucifer team-up later, priority was Liv. Alive. He needed her arms around him, his face buried in the crook her neck as she whispered sweet nothings into his hair. He wanted to feel her pulse against his lips and her heart against his chest where an aching hole had dug itself out that only she could fill. When Lucifer laid is hands on her head, his heart began to hammer, the anticipation of hearing her revived gasp setting every emotion on overdrive. When his brother's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her eyes remained closed, that anticipation turned to dread.

"Well, that should work…" Lucifer mumbled, taking his hands off and then trying again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Gabriel seethed, "Why?"

"I don't know! She's on afterlife lockdown. Whoever took her up, or down, threw away the key. It's okay, you'll find another one in no time. I mean look at you, you stud…"

Gabriel lunged, grabbing his brother by his collar, but he lacked the strength to even force him to budge.

"You shut your mouth," Gabriel seethed through gritted teeth.

"Woah. Okay. So much for bros before hoes… Dude, they're a dime a dozen, take your pick," Lucifer jested, earning himself a blade to the underside of his chin.

"I said, shut your mouth."

"You couldn't even if you tried, little bro. You're wasted away."

Lucifer held his hands up in surrender as he pulled himself from his brother's grip, smirking smugly to himself. So this was it then. Lucifer couldn't bring her back, he couldn't bring her back. There was no other solution. Or was there? Indiana… Battle Ground, Indiana. He needed to get there. There were answers there. Gabriel stood and ran to the only other being capable of getting him there, his hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, his eyes wild and unhinged.

"Take me to Indiana," Gabriel pled, his nephew's eyes wide and fearful, "Take me to that cabin."

"I… uh…" Jack stuttered, Gabriel cautiously watching as both Lucifer and Castiel advanced.

"I can't fly, Jack. Take me there. Please."

Before Lucifer or Castiel could change his mind, Jack and Gabriel were gone. They landed in the front yard of a decaying, old wooden cabin, blackened wing imprints littered throughout the dirt. Bobby hadn't been kidding, this was a massacre. Why did he come here? Anxiety was kicking in, his eyes darting as the hollow in his chest pulsed, this place wasn't right.

"Why did you want to come here?" Jack asked, his voice apprehensive.

"Don't worry about me, kid," Gabriel urged, "Go back to the group."

"What about you? How will you make it back?"

"I'll be fine."

"Gabriel…"

"I said go."

With a sigh, the Nephilim obeyed his Uncle's instruction, disappearing from sight as he returned to camp. Gabriel felt a pang of guilt as he remembered leaving her, unattended in the dirt, but surely Castiel would take over. It didn't matter, because once he was done here, things would be different. Things would be fixed.

Cautiously, he entered the old cabin, the sight before him jarring. There was blood, almost every surface seared with the print of a wing, but what caught his attention the most was a perfect circle burned into the floor of what appeared to be a living room. Why was he here? There was nothing beyond destruction in these tiny, crumbling walls. As he walked through the rooms, he inspected each and every wing print, he could rattle off a few of their owners, yet none were his own.

"Where are you?" Gabriel muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the area for anything he'd in or as, "You can't hide from me… come out, come out wherever you are. You have answers that I need."

He wasn't dead. At least not by anyone's hand here in this house. He'd let her die? A shattered photo frame beside the bed grabbed his gaze, the two faces beneath the glass very familiar. Both of them wore shorter hair cuts, his jaw covered by a dusting of blonde hair, but none of that mattered. Her lips and nose were pressed against his cheek, her arms locked around his neck as he leaned into her hold, smiles stretching to the corners of their eyes. This was how he wanted to remember her, completely in love with him, but right now every image in his head was that of her dead and cold in his arms. He couldn't remember one kiss, or one hug, the sound of her laugh or the smell of her hair, she was gone. He'd failed her in every one of their realities.

"I saw her," a hoarse voice called from behind him, startling him.

Gabriel whipped around, his blade falling from his hands as he tried to quickly unsheathe it from the belt of his pants. Sitting at the table was… him. A very hardened, filthy version of him, one very akin to the Gabriel Liv had inherited from hell two weeks ago.

"I saw her," the huddled angel repeated sadly, his eyes not raising, "where is she?"

An awkward silence settled in between the two archangels, for many reasons. Staring at the alternate versions of themselves was unsettling, both of them suffering the same pain of the same loss. As the alternate version turned to look at him, and Gabriel's face fell, one tear rolling down his cheek.

"Again, huh? That why you're here?" his broken, emotionless clone asked, and Gabriel nodded in response.

"Why the fuck didn't you warn me? You could have helped instead of… being some voyeur! You could have saved her," Gabriel ranted, anger burning in his belly, if he'd seen her, he'd been around at some point, "You could have helped me!"

"I did help you! Who do you think has been trying to tell you to _get_ _out_ _of_ _here_?"

All those sinking feelings, all those intrusive thoughts… they were messages. It all made sense now, how those odd thoughts had found their way into his head.

"I… I'm not what I… we used to be," the seated angel confessed, his thumb flicking his pointer finger in a very familiar manner.

"Yeah. Neither am I," Gabriel lamented, which finally earned him the attention of his doppelgänger.

"What happened to you?"

"Hell. Tortured. The works…"

"Hmm. You'll wish you were back there soon enough.'

"What?"

"This? This is what you're gonna become," he showcased, running his hands down his tattered form, "we don't handle grief well, do we?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Don't tell me you can't already feel it. Once that rage burns out, that last flicker of hope is blown out, you'll be left with nothing. No sorrow, no pain, not even longing. Just… nothing."

Alternate Gabriel stood, his face grimacing in pain as he did so, before walking over and pulling the photo from Gabriel's hands, a small smile playing at his dry, cracking lips.

"I haven't seen this in a long time. I hope you got more of a goodbye than I did," he sighed, and Gabriel remained silent, his nostrils flared, waiting for the other man to continue, "They took her. Threw me in a ring of holy fire. As much as I wanted to crawl right out and let it toast me, there was that chance that she was still alive. Ever try and put out a holy fire? It's damn near impossible. By the time I'd found her, she was long gone. I can still hear her screaming for me… it's constant… the last time I saw her she was… she was reaching for me as they pulled her away…"

That was the first sign of emotion Gabriel saw pass over his twin's features, his face twitching as he held back tears he'd long cried out years ago.

"If you could go back…" Gabriel began.

"Don't even ask," his alternate cut off, "You know that answer. As much as you think you could stay away, you can't. You're selfish, just like me."

The pair stood, staring at each other with identical expressions, one of complete, irreplaceable loss. Gabriel felt himself again breaking down, that emptiness returning as his hope faltered, just as the man before him had warned. This was his future, alone, no will to live but no way to die.

"Why didn't you go back?" Gabriel asked, the last possible solution ticking against his skull.

"Why would I want to bring her back here? It's a wasteland. There's nothing for her here," the other replied, his voice tinged with regret, "Plus, he drained me down to practically nothing. It just stopped coming back after a while. No reason to, I guess. He'd rather me alive than dead. Cursed to an eternity of desolation and guilt… I couldn't go back and face them all, so I hid. Let them all think we were both dead."

"Well, if that isn't the most 'us' thing I've ever heard…"

"I'll make you deal… put me out of my misery and you can have what's left in the old tank."

The offer piqued Gabriel's interest. If he had grace, he could go back, save her. Keep her in that camp instead of wandering around in the wilderness, because he was obviously incapable of defending her. Maybe he'd take it back even a little further, keep her from this mess completely…

"Well?" an impatient bark broke through his internal monologue, "do we have a deal?"

"Yeah. You got a deal."

The sigh of relief that fell from that man's lips was haunting, the slight whimpers that followed even more so. This was all he'd wanted for a long time, it was obvious, and Gabriel feared his fate would be similar. Forever cursed to wandering the Earth searching for any way of ending the infinite loop of misery and pain. Gabriel closed the distance between them, his hand clutching his blade so tight his knuckles were white. Without a word, they both got into position, one shorter than the other from years of huddled wallowing and the lack of a will to even survive. With a quick flick of his wrist, Gabriel sliced a small incision in his alternate's throat, the silvery fog transferring from one to the other quickly. The grace coursed through him, instantly warming him as he felt the power flow through the thin membranes of his skin, the man in front of him collapsing down onto the floor, drained.

"Do it," the wasted angel pleaded from the floor, "please."

"Stand up. Die with some dignity," Gabriel commanded, holding his hand out to assist the other to his feet.

As he stared down into his future, Gabriel thrust his blade through the man before him, his eyes barely flickering before he slumped down to the ground. The action of killing his twin off the same way she'd died sent Gabriel reeling back into his anguish. That piercing scream letting loose inside his head. He had to get her back, it didn't matter the cost. He'd give everything, he'd give the world up, for ten more minutes if that's what it took.

As she stood in her new forever, the wind whipping through her hair, she couldn't help but feel a heavy sense of sadness. This was heaven, somehow she'd scored a ticket to the big top, but she wasn't happy. This was supposed to be a replay of her greatest hits, a permanent home in her favorite memories, but it wasn't. Not even close. The joy of these places had never been completely her own, it had come from the person she'd shared them with, and he was gone. She'd left him alone, deserted him to an eternity on Earth to live alone. As she gazed at the stars just starting to twinkle in the graying sky, all she could see was him in the glittering depths and she knew this was the closest she'd ever be to him ever again.

"Hey Liv," a soft voice called from behind her, "I think we should talk…"

Gabriel returned to Singer Salvage with a new purpose. He searched out where they'd placed her, finding her in a large medical tent, her body covered by a thin, grimy sheet. She deserved better. Pacing back and forth, he contemplated the right time to return and hit the reset button. Did he never set foot into her life? Was she better off? Did he keep her far away from the bunker as they went on this mission? Maybe they didn't need to come at all, he'd been all but useless anyway. Perhaps, though, he'd solve every problem that had risen and not ever let himself be taken by Asmodeus in the first place. They'd get years of time back together.

"Gabriel… you can't," Castiel warned from the entrance, his voice firm and unwavering.

"Oh. But I can," Gabriel sneered, his head tilting with the cadence of his voice.

"No. You cannot meddle with time. You know how dangerous it is-"

"Oh. So that's a privilege reserved for you and the people you love alone then?"

"I learned my lesson."

"Get out of my way, Castiel."

"I won't let you… she wouldn't want this-"

Cas's statement was abruptly interrupted as an invisible force cut off his airways, Gabriel looking on with a hard expression, nostrils flared as his fingers tightened in on each other. The chokes and groans of his brother went unnoticed as the final bit of rage he'd been harnessing broke free.

"You don't know what she wanted," Gabriel seethed, "She didn't want to die! I had to listen to her _beg_ and _plead_ to live! I had to _tell_ _her_ that I couldn't save her! That she was dying and there was NOTHING I COULD DO! The sound of her heart trying so hard… to fight… for me… and _failing_ is playing over and over in my head like a broken record! Don't. Tell me. What she wanted."

"She'd…. want you… to be the man… she knew… you are…" Castiel choked out, taking advantage of the hold loosening as Gabriel began to falter again, "You're… a good…"

"I'm not a good anything, Castiel. I never was. I never will be."

"You are. She thought so."

"And it got her killed."

The hold tightened again across Castiel's throat as he remembered his own hand in her demise. He'd left her in the care of a witch, with his evil brother, he'd agreed to bring her outside the warding, he'd let her run off, he'd been too slow to catch her. He was the reason she was dead. It was him.

"Gabriel… please…" Castiel sputtered, his head growing lighter at the hands of his brother.

Liv had loved Castiel. Gabriel knew it. Not like she loved him of course, but Cas had been there throughout the years he was not. He was her friend, her ally, a protector. He'd saved her life, probably on more than one occasion. He was important to her, and he was right. Gabriel dropped his arm, freeing Castiel from his hold, and fell to the ground on his knees. As much as he tried to hold it back, a cry of despair broke free, it was over. Immediately, Castiel fell to his knees in front of him, pulling the sobbing, smaller man into his arms, who gladly accepted his embrace. His fingers gripped tightly into the thick fabric of his brother's trench coat as he let loose the emotions he'd been so very afraid of.

I'm sorry, Gabriel," Castiel comforted, "I'm so sorry."

"It's over," Gabriel admitted, finally accepting defeat, "She's gone."

"I know."

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"You… grieve. You remember, and you love her until the day you die."

That wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. How was he supposed to fight, when there was nothing left to fight for? How do you proceed to live when all the will to do so was gone? She'd been every anchor holding him in place, and he was unprepared for a life through the tumultuous waters he was now being thrown in. Twelve years should have been a blink of an eye to a being like him, but it felt like a lifetime.

"We always get left behind. It's both our gift and our curse. I believe it's why God never intended for us to love," Castiel continued.

"She needs to go home," Gabriel requested, his words muffled, "take her home."

"We're getting you both home."

"I don't have one anymore."

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Castiel had wrapped her per hunter funeral customs and Gabriel sat by, refusing to leave her side for even a second. No one had disturbed him, and he couldn't blame them. Castiel, however, did check in momentarily whenever he could. Gabriel was despondent, Cas was almost positive at the time that his brother couldn't have been worse than those first few hours out of hell, but clearly he'd been wrong. Maybe it was because by all outward appearance, Gabriel looked fine, but his eyes showed just how truly dead he was. As people walked by, he never lifted them from the ground, his arms tight around his knees as he kept himself in a tight ball. Cas wasn't sure Gabriel would ever recover from this. How could he? It was a miracle he'd survived nine years of torture in hell and now the one thing that he'd lived for was gone. He saw no future where this ended well.

"It's uh, it's time to go," Cas informed, clapping a hand onto Gabriel's shoulder, who gave one small nod in response, "Do you, want me to carry her?"

"No," was all he got in return as Gabriel finally stood.

He ran his hand down her covered face, wishing he could feel her skin one last time, see her again. He had nothing, not a single photograph, and even his memories weren't giving her the justice she deserved. His heart was empty, and it was taking every ounce of restraint to not use his newly charged grace and take out this burning aggression and heartache on someone. His brother being the main contender. He brought her here. He dragged Mary Winchester here. They wouldn't _be_ here if it weren't for him.

As he loaded her lifeless corpse onto the bus, regrettably having to leave her in the capable hands of the man that had pulled him from hell, he shot his brother a glare. When they made it back, he was going to do well on that promise he'd made to end that snake once and for all. He may not have used this stolen grace for what he intended, but he'd still get a use out of it. When he took his seat in the small utility vehicle with the Winchesters and Castiel, half of him wanted to stay behind and die here. Maybe Michael would put him out of his misery. Maybe he'd let Lucifer. To hell with it. Those were the only two things in the universe that could do it. The drive back to the rift felt like hours. Was this how time was going to move now? The seconds draggedon, agonizingly slow; each tick of the clock was a reminder of a heart that no longer beat.

The rift shined on in the distance, bringing him one step closer to watching her burn on a pyre. He'd made that promise, and he intended to keep it. No funny business, no saving her corpse for a miracle, no wasting valuable land—burn her. That was her final request. It always had been, and he'd agreed, thinking it wouldn't be happening so soon into her life. She hadn't even lived yet. There was so much he still wanted to show her, to give her, but now it would never be.

The survivors began filing through the floating orange light, each one eager to start their new lives, but Gabriel wasn't. That's what this was, a new life. A harder one. An impossible one. He'd loved, finally, but nothing had prepared him for the pain of the loss. That old saying was wrong, he'd rather never have loved at all. Maybe if he hadn't, she'd still be alive. Gabriel watched as Ketch carried her to safety, giving the angel a reassuring nod as he did. Now it was almost his turn.

The balls of fire falling from the sky caught his eye, and instead of his stomach dropping, he felt a pang of hope…

"Can it be?" Michael inquired, "Gabriel? I hear we ended your wench once again. Always a pleasure…"

Gabriel's nostrils flared as he advanced, "Go. I can buy some time," he instructed the brothers behind him, turning to look at them one last time, "Take care of her."

"Gabriel, don't," Sam begged, shaking his head no.

"I'm already dead, boys."


	21. Chapter 21

_Fare_ - _Thee_ - _Well_ : _noun_ ; _to_ _perfection_ ; _thoroughly_

Cool, linen sheets surrounded him as a warm breeze ruffled through his hair. He knew these linen sheets, he'd created them. The silence faintly began to break apart, a rhythmic crash in the distance rousing him from what felt like the deepest sleep he'd ever had. The smell of the sea and… something else familiar he couldn't quite place filtered into his nose as he slowly opened his eyes. What was this?

He'd been stabbed. Michael had killed him, he was positive. He'd made damn sure that blade hit him right where it needed to in order to off him quickly, not so much painlessly, but the physical agony had been nothing compared to what he'd felt inside. He shouldn't be… anywhere. The Empty was where beings like him went, an eternity of sleep in absolutely nothing. That had seemed a better fate than life.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, the sun… the white walls and sheets only adding to the blinding effect. He knew this place. As everything came into focus, he knew he'd been here before. Quickly, his eyes shot to the spot beside him in the bed. Empty. What was he doing here? The ocean waves lolled on outside the cabana's open window, and not a single part of this was making any sense.

"Gabriel," a voice he hadn't heard in thousands of years called from the bedroom doorway, and his heart dropped.

"Dad?" he gasped, slowly turning his eyes to the origin as he sat up.

"Hey, son."

Tears welled into his eyes as he stared at his father. His expression was soft as he gazed at his runaway child, it almost looked like pity. Neither of them spoke, they didn't have the words. Apologies, excuses, blame, it all circled inside Gabriel's head, unable to land on one to begin with.

"What is this?" seemed like a good place to start, hoping to gain his bearings.

"Heaven, of course," Chuck replied, smiling that crooked smirk as he lifted his hands in presentation.

"Aren't I dead? What am I doing in heaven?"

"I figured it was the least I could do."

"The least you could do. Yeah, that sounds about right."

Chuck's eyes fell away in shame as Gabriel peered down to his stomach, expecting a wound and finding his shirt still intact and clean. Cleaned even of the blood that had soaked into it from… her. Heaven. This was completely beyond the point of him getting himself killed in the first place.

"So what," Gabriel continued, "I get to spend eternity up here reliving my greatest hits?"

"Not exactly…" Chuck replied, eyes squinting with what looked like mischief.

Gabriel was in no mood for riddles. He pinched his eyes shut as he pressed back the slew of obscenities and anger he now wanted to throw his father's way.

"Look outside," Chuck suggested, leaning onto the open door frame.

Wanting to get this family reunion over with, Gabriel obeyed. Turning around to look through the window...had his heart been beating, it would have stopped. His throat closed in on itself as a wave of relief washed through him, the tears he'd been holding back breaking free in loud, choking sobs. He'd practically all but forgotten his father's presence as he stared at her standing on the ocean's edge, the setting sun bouncing off her skin, hair falling salt-tousled and wild around her shoulders. She was even more perfect than he remembered.

"It's really her," Chuck assured, "well, her soul. Not just some figment of my design. This is her heaven, I just added a plus one. No one can bother you. They don't know you're here. Our little secret."

"Hers?" Gabriel asked, dumbfounded. Her heaven was a memory with him?

"Yeah. She meant it when she said she wanted to stay here forever. Although, I think it's missing its key component."

He couldn't pull his eyes away from her. Why would he want to? He feared if he looked away, she would disappear.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel, for everything," his father finally said, healing a long open wound, and Gabriel's gaze shot over in disbelief, "I am. You did good son. I'm proud of you."

Hearing words he'd never once even considered imagining sent all of his rage and resentment towards his father to the wayside. Chuck's tone had been sincere, the look in his eyes of guilt and pain said more than any words could. Gabriel believed him.

"Well, thanks for this…" Gabriel finally muttered, ready to run out onto that beach to the one person who truly mattered.

Chuck smiled, knowing the thoughts going through his youngest archangel's mind as his eyes turned back to ensure she was still outside, "Well, I'm not gonna keep you any longer. She's waiting. I like her, by the way. Just what you needed."

"Was it you?"

"Was what me?"

"Is this some… fate or destiny or… written excerpt? Did you make me love her?"

"No, actually, that's what makes it all so interesting…"

She was still there, glowing in the evening light. She was no illusion, she was _here_ and he was here, they were _together_. When he turned to respond to his father's last words, he was saddened to see the doorway now empty. He was surprised he felt no anger towards him. He'd come through in the end. It only took him a couple thousands years, but this was worth the wait. So this hadn't been predetermined, it was never a guarantee. It had been chance. Luck. The greatest turn of events his life had ever taken.

Slipping his boots off—he wouldn't be needing those ever again—he got out of bed and headed out into the house, every detail exactly as he remembered it. It was a perfect replica, down to the tattered, gauzy curtains blowing in the breeze. Passing a mirror on the wall, he chuckled to himself, running his hand over his now bearded chin and jaw. This really must be her heaven after all. When he opened the back door, the sun warming his face instantly, he took off into a sprint through the sand. His eyes remained locked on the only thing he cared about, praying again that she didn't vanish, too afraid to blink in fear she'd be gone. He stumbled as his feet weren't carrying him fast enough, but when he got close to her, he froze.

There she was, four feet away, still unaware of his intrusion into her paradise. This was terrifying and he couldn't place his finger on why. Surely she'd want him here, right? He wondered what she was looking for, staring motionless to the skies as the waves licked at her toes, the skirt of her dress billowing around her thighs. He'd always loved that she wore them here, and only here. He wanted to call out to her, run to her, pull her into his arms and never let her go again, but he just couldn't move. This was everything he'd ever fought for, everything he'd ever wanted. It didn't seem possible that it was actually a reality.

"You're early," she chimed, not turning to face him.

The sound of that sweet voice, so unburdened and free, welled in his chest. A despair-filled cry broke free from his throat and she turned to face him, smiling softly at him as her own tears welled in the bottoms of her eyes. He was finally here. It had seemed like such a long time, she wasn't sure just how much time had passed, but she assumed things moved a little slower up here, too. They stared at one another, shock and relief mixing as their eyes met, before Gabriel could resist no longer. He ran to her, wrapping her into his arms as he let his tears flow freely. His cries struck a chord in her, and she reached up to pull his head into the crook her neck and he melted into her embrace. Unabashedly, he wept. There was no control over the wails and moans of relief that fell from his lips as she held him strong, her fingers running through the curls behind his ear, her skin soft against his.

"You're okay," she soothed, "looks like your stuck with me for eternity."

A small laugh cut through his sorrow and he lifted his head to see her. She was smiling, her cheeks damp from her own silent tears. He looked at her, his eyes red and swollen and tear-soaked, and she couldn't deny just how human he looked.

"Still not long enough," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I'm sorry," she cried, her voice cracking as her guilt resurfaced, cupping his cheek and running her thumb over the soft, blonde hair that covered it, "I'm so sorry…"

"Ssshh, doesn't matter. None of it. It's over. Little different than what I had in mind for the end here, but it'll do. It's my fault. All of it. Everything."

"No. I knew what I was getting into. I'd do it all over again, too, even it played out exactly the same way."

It was his turn to falter again. His face twitched as he felt the hot surge of another wave of remorse wash through him. Leaning into her hand, his eyes snapped shut, taking in every sensation of this moment.

"Can you kiss me now?" she requested with a breathy chuckle.

"Yeah," he exhaled, voice shaking.

He wanted to savor this. Enjoy every nanosecond of her, feel every millimeter of her skin against his. Her breath shook against his lips as he lowered his face towards her, first stopping to rub his nose along her cheek. Her lips were parted and eyes snapped shut in anticipation, the hand that had been on his cheek now wrapped around his neck and locked into his hair. As much as she wanted to pull his head to hers and relieve this aching hole in her heart, she waited for him.

"I love you, you know," he whispered, his lips feathering against hers as he spoke.

"Ditto, baby," she sighed, "more than anything."

His kiss was soft, both of their faces twisting into relieved grimaces as their lips made contact. They both held the urge to grab and pull at the other at bay, keeping this moment simple and slow as they both felt their losses wash away. There was no loss, not anymore. They lingered just like that, still, pressed against one another, the last of their tears falling away.

"Told you I'd always find my way back to you," he teased, kissing the corner of her mouth as she giggled, then her cheek, then the outer corner of her eye.

"I can't believe I get forever with you," she smiled, nipping her lips against his bearded chin.

"Drew the short straw, did ya?"

"And you say I'm self-deprecating."

"Match made in heaven."

Her laugh burst through her nose, head falling against his chin and he chuckled as he pressed his lips into her forehead. When Chuck—God—had shown up and told her that when he finally passed, he'd be joining her, she almost hadn't believed him. They'd chatted about things one would never think they'd be discussing with God himself. Music, books, Gabriel and how exactly their relationship had come to be. All in all, God had seemed completely all right with one of his most powerful creations falling in love with her, he had to have been, giving them this place.

"How long? Has it been…" she asked, trailing her lips along his jaw, still enjoying the scratchy feeling against her lips.

"I made it about 4 hours," he laughed, and she groaned, "What? I saw my out and I took it."

"Gabriel!"

His lips cut her scolding off, his arms lifting her up. Instinctually, her legs wrapped around his waist and this time, they couldn't keep it slow. His tongue wrestled between her lips to meet with hers, little grunts and whimpers escaping from both of them as they moved. He began to walk forward, the waves splashing up around them as he carried her into the ocean, stopping when they were chest deep. The water was warm as heat built between them, and she didn't think it was right to be this happy to be dead, but she didn't care. His mouth traveled down to the skin of her neck, the taste of the ocean salt on her skin damn near euphoric. Clumsily, she reached down to the hem of his shirt, peeling the soaked fabric from his skin. They laughed as it took the two of them to wrestle it off, throwing it into the cerulean depths as her hands began roaming his freshly uncovered skin beneath the water. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, hair soaked, water dripping from his angular features, and she'd never been more in love with him than in that moment.

"You're beautiful," she breathed, grazing her fingers along his jaw as she lowered her mouth back to his, capturing his lower lip in a simple kiss, "I missed you."

"I thought I was never gonna see you again," he cried, leaning into her as she pressed her lips to his forehead.

Pouring every ounce of love she had into it, she kissed him again, harder this time. He soaked in every emotion, felt her cool skin beneath the sea, her thighs tightly pressed around his waist as her skirted floated freely in the waves. She took control, trying to rip that pain she knew he still felt away, let it wash away with the tides. He accepted everything that she gave him; every press of her lips was healing as she showered him with the love she knew he deserved.

"I thought I was never gonna see you again," he repeated, voice cracking as he pinched his eyes shut, recalling the sight of her lifeless in his arms.

"I know," she lamented, "me too."

They hugged each other tight, that fear of the other disappearing into thin air still lingering. The war was over, they didn't have to fight anymore, they'd won. They held each other there in the ocean until the sun had set, the stars now twinkling above them, the moon casting a peaceful glow over the vast blue.

"So, can I cook you dinner?" Gabriel asked, pecking a series of kisses to her cheek as he shifted her in his arms to carry her bridal style.

"Are you gonna keep this beard?" she asked as he began to walk them back to the house, one arm around his neck as her other hand stroked against his jaw.

"Do you like it?"

"Mhmm."

"Then I'm keeping it."

For the first time since before she could remember, she felt no weight on her shoulders. She had no one to prove herself to, no work, no responsibility. Gabriel loved her, she loved him, and that was all that mattered. It was all that should have ever mattered. She'd wasted so much of her life on things that she shouldn't have, and it'd taken dying to finally get her priorities straight.

No more goodbyes. No more monsters. This was forever.

 _So_ _show_ _us_ _a_ _bird_ , _flying high above,_

 _Life ain't worth living without the one you love._

 _Fare Thee Well, my honey, Fare Thee Well._

 _Fare Thee Well, my honey, Fare Thee Well._

 _A/N:_ I want to thank everyone for reading an reviewing! I hope a few people out there enjoyed it. There will be a one shot eilogue and a prequel coming cause I like these two too much to give them up just yet 3


End file.
